


A Madness Most Discreet

by vampireisthenewblack



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: All Human, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Frottage, Hand Jobs, High School, M/M, Slash, Underage Sex, Unsafe Sex, twislash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-10-17
Updated: 2012-01-26
Packaged: 2017-10-17 04:28:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 19
Words: 47,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/172903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampireisthenewblack/pseuds/vampireisthenewblack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <img/></p><p>I'm pretty sure Edward Cullen hates my guts. It's the way he looks at me, the way he stares so intensely. If that were the extent of the problem it would be easy to ignore, but it's not. Because I'm pretty sure I'm in love with him. E/J. AH. Slash. NC-17.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I'm pretty sure Edward Cullen hates my guts.

It's the way he looks at me sometimes, the way he stares so intensely. Then other times he ignores me completely.

I'm fairly certain he can't stand me.

It's hard enough that his brother and my sister have been dating for years, and it's awkward when our families spend time together and he won't speak to me or look at me. If that were the extent of the problem it would be easy to ignore, but it's not.

Because I'm pretty sure I'm in love with Edward Cullen.

He sits across the aisle from me in Biology, and I'm so careful not to let him see me looking, but I can't help but watch him out of the corner of my eye. It's so hard to concentrate in this class with him right there beside me, and I'm sure if we had been allowed to choose our own seating arrangements he would choose to be as far away from me as possible. It would have been better because it's a wonder I'm passing this class at all with the way he distracts me just by being there.

I watch him as he plays with a pencil in his long pale fingers, twisting it, spinning it on the desk, and then his fingers slow, the pencil stops, and the hair on my forearms rises, tingling. I know it's because he's watching me now, and he's careful not to turn his head, but I can feel his eyes on me.

I wish he didn't hate me.

Mom and Dad have decided to have Emmett's whole family for dinner. They told me I'm welcome to bring a girl―a date―but they know I won't. They're just glad I'm concentrating on my studies.

The bell rings for the end of class, but I don't get out of my seat quick enough and he catches me by the shoulder in the hall. "Jasper, wait."

I whirl around, defensive. We are face-to-face for maybe the first time ever. Before it was always one or the other of us looking away, and I don't think he's ever actually spoken to me; I would have remembered if he had. I'm reminded of the reason why  _I've_  never spoken to  _him_  before.

It's because he's so fucking beautiful it hurts to look at him.

"What do you want?" I ask, but I lose my voice halfway through and it comes out sounding like defeat.

He just stares at me for a long time. His hand is still on my shoulder, and I want to shrug it off. I think I should feel threatened because he hates me, right?

Finally, he speaks. "Are you gonna talk to me on Saturday? I just...we shouldn't ruin it for everyone else, okay?"

I nod, in shock, and where his hand rests on my shoulder—it burns.

I glance at it.

He removes it.

He inhales quickly, turns and walks away.

~v~

I try to hide out in my room, but Rose comes up and says I'd better come down and be sociable. Mom and Dad will be pissed if either of us embarrasses them. The Cullen's are the richest family in town, so of course we have to impress them.

So I smile dutifully as Mom extols my grades and the few advanced classes I'm taking, and cringe as Dad bemoans the fact I don't play any sports, not like their Emmett who is the captain of the football team.

"I don't play sport either," says Edward Cullen from the corner of the room where he's sitting on a loveseat with his twin, Alice.

Everyone stares, because he's not said a word since the greetings when they arrived, and he blushes. Alice is grinning at me and I don't know why.

"Jasper tells me you're top of the class in Biology, Edward," my mother says, and the only reason she has this information is because she drilled me before they arrived. But of course Edward doesn't know this, and I'm trying to decipher the look on his face because I can't decide if it's worried or surprised or...happy?

Alice is still grinning at me. Edward doesn't answer my mother at first. After the initial surprise or whatever it was he looks embarrassed, and shakes his head and says: "Jasper's lots smarter than me," and even though he's talking about me, saying my name (and it sounds so good the way he says it), he's ignoring me again.

I know Alice even less than I know Edward. She's not in any of my classes. Her opinion of me seems to be the polar opposite of his, because she's always smiling at me, and she keeps seeking me out to talk about school or something. It's the only time she leaves his side.

I can't understand why he insisted I talk to him, because he's doing his best to completely ignore me, and I'm sure it's becoming obvious to everyone here that he can't stand me.

I'm so preoccupied I miss it at first when Mom asks me to go start clearing up in the kitchen, but when I realise I go thankfully, just to get away from him. Even though he's quiet and as far away from me as he can possibly be while still being in the same room, the space seems filled with him.

The kitchen is large and white and cold and empty by contrast. Every scrape of a dish is loud, even the water running is deafening.

Then something changes. The door opens behind me and the sound of voices from the living room flows in and then is cut off again. The room is full, the air thick, and I know he's behind me because I can feel his eyes on the back of my neck.

He doesn't want to be here, he can't stand me.

"My mom told me to come help," he says, and his voice wavers, hesitates. I turn slowly and wonder again why he asked me to talk to him when he's standing there like here is the last place he wants to be, but even with the look of...hate or fear or whatever it is on his face, he's still so, so pretty and it hurts so much that he doesn't like me because I wish he did.

As I always do, I arrange my face into a look that is meant to tell him I don't care whether he hates me or not. "You can load the dishwasher," I say, and turn back to the sink. I rinse the dishes and pass them to him in silence. I feel like every gesture is being scrutinised, and I find it's exactly what I'm doing to him. I'm so careful not to let our hands or fingers touch as plates and bowls pass from me to him, and I realise he's doing the same. The air thickens further, and an emotion passes through me, a fear, or is it anticipation because somehow I know something is about to happen.

"What is your problem?" he spits, his hands braced on the edge of the counter as I stand stupidly waiting for him to take a plate from my hands. I look at him, and he's staring down at his fingers; his knuckles are white and I wonder what I've done to deserve his outburst.

"What have I ever done to you?" he continues, but his voice has softened. He sounds like he's pleading with me, and he turns his head and looks at me sideways from under those long lashes, the intensity in his eyes makes my breath catch in my throat and I wish it wasn't like this, I wish we were friends (boyfriends), so I could hear that voice in laughter or loving words because it's as beautiful as he is.

"Well? Are you gonna talk to me?" Again, the words are confrontational but his voice begs me to respond.

"You don't like me," I tell him, and I can hear the question, the disbelief in my own voice because why would he want me to speak to him when he can't stand me and clearly doesn't want to know me? So why would he?

His head turns, and his eyes are wide, his lips parted in what looks for all the world like shock. Did he think I didn't notice? His lips move, as if he's trying to say something but can't find the words. His brow is furrowed; a tiny crease has appeared between his eyebrows, and he's staring right at me, right into my eyes, and his are the most vivid green I've ever seen.

I'm drinking in the sight, the colour, because I never get to do this, never get more than a glimpse before I have to look away so I make the most of it, though this is likely to be the last time he ever speaks to me or even looks at me again. His head starts to shake almost imperceptibly from side to side.

"Do you...want me to?" he stammers, and then drops his eyes to the plate in my hands, still hanging in the air from when I was halfway through handing it to him. He takes it from me, but does nothing with it, leaving it in the same limbo it's suffered the last two minutes, only clutched in the hand of another. He takes a deep breath and lifts his eyes back to mine, and his face goes pink as he takes quick, gasping breaths. "Because I...I do," he says, and I expect him to say more, but he's finished, because he loads the plate into the dishwasher and acts like nothing has been said at all.

He's waiting for me to pass him something else, but I don't, because I'm still staring at him. He looks up, and he looks afraid, and I can't understand why, because what could I possibly ever do to him?

"Well?" he asks. "Does it change anything?"

I feel stupid, but the truth is I am mesmerised by his eyes, by the fact he is staring at me, but not in the way he usually does. It's just as intense as always, more so perhaps, but infinitely softer...and he isn't looking away as soon as I glance at him. His breath catches in his throat, and it almost sounds like a sob, but that can't be right. And his eyes, the edges of his eyes redden, and he looks away again, back down at his hands. "Forget it, let's just―just finish this so you don't have to be around me anymore."

But that's not what I want. I want to look at him, I want him to lift his head towards me again, I want to see the intensity in his eyes again.

Without thinking, I reach out and touch his hand. My fingers are wet as they grip his hand firmly and I can feel the bones beneath his skin. I hear him gasp, and look up into his eyes. They've darkened, his pupils wide and black, a tiny sliver of green surrounding them. His lips are open, and he's taking quick breaths, and I realise I'm doing the same. My fingers tighten on his hand, twisting into his fingers, and I squeeze because suddenly it's apparent I was wrong. Edward Cullen doesn't hate me. The same feelings I'm having—the need, the want, the tension—he's feeling, and his fingers squeeze back, and my heart leaps, and I lean forward without thinking, and so does he.

His lips are on mine, his mouth crushing mine, and I feel his tongue and open my mouth to him, and it's hurried, and wet and clumsy and it hurts a little when his teeth scrape my lip but I don't care because Edward Cullen is kissing me, I'm kissing him, and our fingers are still entwined and my free hand clutches at his chest, balling the fabric of his shirt in my fist, pulling, needing him to be closer.

He seems to understand, because he turns us so I am against the counter and he's pushing hard against me as his lips and tongue and teeth devour me. I feel tiny groaning sounds coming from his chest, vibrating against my hand, and I place it flat, rubbing, moving over him until I can feel a hard nipple beneath my palm through his shirt and I can't help but flick my thumbnail over it.

He growls and shoves his hips into me, hard, crushing me against the counter. I feel his cock digging into me, into the hollow beside my hip bone, and it's so hard, and that's for me. I'm hard too, and I want to rub myself against him but I have to be satisfied with the stimulation I get from his movements because I'm pinned to the counter, and he's not thrusting against me so much as rocking, rubbing his dick against my hip and it's leaving me high and dry unless he would only turn a little that way...

I free my hands and grab his ass, pulling him into me and twisting him just that little bit and then  _oh fuck yes, so good._  As his cock rubs against my hip, my cock rubs against his. I dig my fingers into the cheeks of his ass and feel him moan into my mouth.

I am being dry humped by Edward Cullen in my parent's kitchen, and my parents, and my sister, and the entire Cullen family bar the one I'm currently making out with are on the other side of one very thin door that swings inward with only a single push.

I shove him away, off me, gasping, and he stares at me with a hurt expression.

"Our families are out there," I say by way of explanation.

"We could go to your bedroom," he whispers, and I think about it, because my Xbox is up there and all I'd have to do is say we are going to play a game and no one would bat an eyelid.

"We have to do this first." I point at the few dishes still left to rinse and load into the dishwasher.

He nods, so I turn back to the sink, and I can feel his eyes on the back of my neck again, and it feels the same, but it's different because now I know it's not hate.

I don't know that it's the same as what I feel for him, lust, and love, but it's not hate. He doesn't hate me; he wants me.

I feel his breath on the back of my neck, I feel his body pressed against my back, his hard cock pushed against my ass. It makes me think of the possibilities and I whimper.

"I've wanted you for so long," he murmurs into my ear, "and I thought you couldn't stand me."

"Same here," I stammer, trying to concentrate on rinsing the last few dishes.

He pulls away, taking the dish from my hand and shoving it quickly into the dishwasher. "We were both wrong."


	2. Chapter 2

It seems to take so long to rinse and stack the last few plates. Neither of us says a word throughout, and the silence has me questioning everything that happened only moments before.

I think that I must have misunderstood his words because it doesn't seem real. I still feel his eyes on me, studying my every movement, my every action, and surely if everything  _had_  changed then he would look at me, he would speak to me.

I don't speak to him, either. It is only when the final dish goes into the dishwasher and the door closes that he opens his mouth.

"Do you still..."

As he speaks, all the tension I didn't know I was holding onto dissipates. I close my eyes and savour the way the hair rises at the back of my neck, the way my skin prickles under his gaze. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Oh, god," he whispers, his voice strained.

I open my eyes and see the fear on his face. How is it possible that  _I_  could do this to  _him_? Then he sees the relaxed smile that I simply cannot contain even though I still don't believe it's real, and his face reddens. "I thought, maybe...I mean, do you? You know...your room?" His voice is so uncertain and I know I need to give him some indication that yes, I do, I do want him in my room, I want him to shove me up against some hard surface like he did before and rub and kiss until my all-consuming physical need for him is relieved.

"Yeah," I whisper, and I try hard to keep the word calm and even and steady. I can't, and it comes out hard and fast and shaky. I nod frantically, hoping that he will believe my body even if he can't believe my words.

A thought presses against the edge of my consciousness, and though I try, I can't ignore it completely. I can't help but fear that this is some elaborate joke perpetrated by a boy who can't stand the sight of me and hates the fact that soon enough we will be as good as family. But that kiss...that kiss couldn't have been faked. He wants me, and I want him, and suddenly I need to get out of the kitchen and up to my room.

As I move to go around him, he side-steps in the same direction. We both try to go the other way, and we both stammer and blush and finally he puts his hands on me, on my shoulders to keep me in one place as he shifts out of my path.

I cannot help but lean close to him as he touches me. He smells so good.

I think that every person in the room will know exactly what happened in the kitchen as soon as I show my face, so I make it brief, but as I tell my mother that we are going upstairs to play Halo I cannot help but glance at Alice. Her grin is even wider than before, and she looks as if she is about to bounce off the couch with excitement.

I block it from my mind but cannot help noticing that every other person in the gathering smiles at our request to take leave of them.

"Kick his ass, buddy," Emmett calls out as we start up the stairs.

I'm quiet as we climb the stairs, and I force myself to hang back, not to run up ahead of him. An hour, his father said, until Edward will have to leave with his family and it seems far too short a time, yet the past few hours have dragged interminably. I focus on the sound of his steps on the stair beside me, forcing myself to match his pace.

We move up past where anyone can see us and suddenly the atmosphere is thick again like it was in the kitchen and I can't bear it. I'll have to speak or I'll have to touch him, and I can't think of anything remotely appropriate to say, so I say nothing, instead moving closer to him, gradually, one step at a time until our knuckles brush and the heat is phenomenal, and I know it's all in my head, but every single nerve ending in my body seems collected right there on the back of my hand.

He glances at me quickly, a tiny smile on his lips, his eyes blazing from beneath those long lashes and I can't breathe for a moment because he's never, ever, smiled at me like that before.

As much as I watch him, I know that I've never seen him smile at anyone else like that either. It makes me bold, and I twitch my wrist and capture his hand in mine. I realise too late that my palm is slick (must be still wet from the sink), but it's okay, because I think his is too. He pulls free and bites his lip and rubs his palm against his jeans, apologises, and takes my hand again. "I'm...just freaking out..."

What about? I want to ask, but I don't. Me too, I want to tell him. Instead, I pull him into my bedroom and thank god for my mother and her demands that I clean my room before the Cullen's arrived, though if anyone had told me I'd have one ( _the_ one) in my room I would have laughed at them.

Edward Cullen is in my bedroom.

I study every tiny aspect of him. He's different up close. I've never had a chance to stare so unabashedly before. He's so beautiful with that pink in his cheeks. I want to feel it, and so I reach out my free hand and touch his face (after wiping my sweaty palm on my jeans). He leans his head into my hand, closing his eyes. "Is this real?" he asks.

I hope so, I want to say, but I can't think. I'm focused on the way his lips wrap around the words, on the colour and shape of the fuller, lower one. I can't think, so I don't stop myself when I take a single step towards him and press my lips against his.

His eyes fly open, and I close mine. His hands settle on my hips, and I whimper, wishing that he would hold me tighter there. But his fingers slip through my belt loops and tug and the sound I make catches in my throat and I slip my hand into his hair, and it's soft and clean and crazy and his lips are wet and warm, and his tongue tastes so good.

I pull away. He narrows his eyes and closes his fists around the sides of my jeans, tugging. I frown, because I want to melt back into him, but I know that you can hear my TV from downstairs and so I back up, circling my fingers around his wrists and releasing myself from his grip. I switch on the TV, press the button on the console. The disc is still in there; it loads quickly and I cannot help but smile when One Final Effort fills the room with sound, though I marvel at the fact that where my chest normally tightens with the rise and the fall of the music, it is already tight.

"Are we gonna—" he begins.

I realise I'm staring at the screen, and so I look over my shoulder at Edward's confused expression. "Play? No. Unless you want to? I don't."

He smirks and shakes his head, and comes towards me. "I want..." he murmurs, lowering his eyes and reaching out with his hand to twist his fingers in the hem of my shirt. "God, Jasper..."

The way he says my name is so fucking hot that I can't breathe and yet I'm throwing myself at him, making him rock back on his heels. He chuckles into my mouth, and I think maybe he's laughing at me, but I don't care. It's like I've been holding back for so long because this, this fantasy, was impossible, yet here I am, here he is, and it's all so unlikely that I must be dreaming so I'm damn well going to make the most of it before I wake up.

I push him until the back of his legs are against the edge of my bed and he sinks down. I follow, crawling over him, straddling his thighs. His hands are on my hips again, this time slipping into my jeans, under the elastic waistband of my boxers.

I groan because  _Edward Cullen_  has his hands in the back of my jeans and he's pressing his fingers into my ass cheeks as we kiss. I've never done this before, never kissed like this at all (there was that one time Lauren Mallory kissed  _me_  by the fire at First Beach one night, but after I pushed her off me she hasn't spoken to me since), so I don't know if I'm even doing it right. But it feels so fucking right, and so natural, even though it's clumsy and wet and he winces when I accidentally catch his lip between my teeth.

I don't know when I started rubbing against him. I'm rocking my hips, pressing hard down onto him, making sure that my cock shoves against the bulge in his jeans with every thrust. He's encouraging me, pushing his hands further into my jeans and grabbing great handfuls of my ass and pulling me onto him. I can't kiss him any more. My face settles into the crook of his neck and now every time I rub against him I grunt, and he moans, and he slips one hand out of my jeans and up the back of my shirt, and he's holding me, Edward Cullen is holding me. He doesn't hate me, he likes me, he wants this as much as I do, and even through layers of denim I can feel how hard he is. It's too good, far too good, because my stomach clenches up hard and my balls contract and with a sound that begins as a grunt and draws out into a feral groan, I come hard and sudden.

I'm a dead weight as I lay there and catch my breath. He laughs softly, a mere exhalation of warmth into my hair, and he's stroking my head with his hand. The other one is still massaging my butt cheek as he shifts beneath me. He didn't come. He's still hard and wanting to be touched. I roll off, biting my lip, not meeting his eyes because I'm mortified that I came in my jeans.

He kisses me. "It's okay," he whispers, and I look up. His pupils are dilated, shiny and black and deep and dark and I could lose myself in them. I kiss him back, slowly moving my lips against his, gentle this time, less wet because I'm not hurried. He's breathing hard, and I'm relaxed, so I don't worry that I'm not doing the right thing when I let my hand stroke down his chest and over the bulge in his jeans. He's still hard as a rock, and I press harder as if to prove just how stiff he is. He arches, and shivers, and moans into my mouth. I do it again.

"God...please..."

I want to touch him, I want him naked in my hand, just to see what he feels like, so I work the button free and lower the zip. "This okay?" I stammer as I trace my fingers feather light over the thin fabric that covers him.

"Shit...yeah, please..."

I wrap my fingers around his covered cock and squeeze as I stroke upwards, then slip my fingers under the elastic waistband. I moan at the feeling of him in my hand, the soft skin over marble hardness.

"Oh, fuck," he gasps.

He's hot, and twitching, and wet at the tip. I stroke him like I would stroke myself, only repositioning my hand once to compensate for the fact that I'm working the other way. I try to kiss him. He doesn't kiss back, but he stares into my eyes, breathing half words and soft groans. Slowly I realise that his hips are twitching; soon he's thrusting into my hand. His lips hang open, occasionally closing over his tongue as he wets them, and seeing him like this, flushed and aroused and fucking my hand makes me brave and I whisper, "I want to make you come."

His eyes snap closed and he groans loud, his face twisting in pleasure. He cries out, and I feel his cock swell in the circle of my fingers. He grunts and clenches his fist in my hair, and it hurts, but I don't care because his cock is pumping hot, wet spurts out over my hand and onto the duvet beneath us.

I made Edward Cullen come.

He opens his eyes. He looks dreamy, sated, and a little embarrassed, but I know what that feels like (I still have the reminder of it, sticky and cooling in my boxers), so I smile and kiss him. Neither of us speaks until I pull away and reach under the bed for the box of tissues I keep there.

He laughs.

I pull out a handful and wipe his spunk off my fingers. "It's your fault." I pull out more and wipe come off the surface of the duvet. I'm thankful that it's my turn to do the laundry.

"How's that?"

I drop the tissues into the waste basket beside the bed. When I lie down again I don't look at his eyes. My face is burning. "I think about you too much."

He's quiet and still. I have to look, to see his reaction to the news that I fantasise about him when I masturbate. He has a small smile on his lips, and his eyes are wide. I bury my face in his chest and he wraps his arms around me and sighs. "I keep expecting to wake up," I mumble.

"Me too." His breath is warm in my hair.

~v~

We're playing Halo when we hear soft footsteps outside my room and a tentative knock on the door. "Edward? We're going now." It's Alice, and Edward calls out that he's coming and we hear her walking away.

He drops his controller, not caring that he's getting killed. "I'll see you Monday?"

I nod. I feel sad that he's going. I get up off the floor where I've been sitting and I stand in front of him. It's been half an hour since I got back from the bathroom, we haven't kissed since then, and I don't want him to leave without feeling and tasting him one more time.

He turns back from the door and chews on his lower lip as he looks up at me from beneath eyelashes so long he should be the envy of every girl in school. Then he smiles, and says something about his mother and dishes and kitchens but I don't hear it because he's closed the distance between us and his lips are on mine and his arms are tight around me. The taste of him is even better than I remember, even better than I'd ever imagined it would be, but it's over far too soon. He pulls away, releases me from the cage of his arms, slowly, reluctantly. He presses his lips together and sweeps his tongue over them one last time and I imagine that he is savouring my flavour as much as I am his. "See you Monday," he says, and I think he's blushing. It's beautiful. Everything about him is.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapters 3-9 were written at least six months ago and are posting unbeta'd.

Sunday drags. I'm distracted, staring off into space, not realising when I'm being spoken to. I'm always thinking of Edward. It's so easy to imagine that it was all a dream, that he will be exactly the same on Monday, that if I walk up to him he will sneer, or look away and ignore me. I'm so afraid.

But I smile as I stuff my duvet cover into the washing machine and remember the feeling of his cock in my hand, the look on his face and the things he said when I made him come.

If that wasn't real, then I've lost my mind.

I await Monday with an apprehensive anticipation. It's a normal feeling, because after every weekend I look forward to seeing him again, the quick furtive glimpses in the halls and in the cafeteria and in class, but it's always bittersweet, because I can't stare like I want to; I can't look him in the eye like I want to.

I've done that all now, I've looked into his eyes (while I had my hand on his cock).

Late Sunday night, I empty the box of tissues I keep under my bed. I wake Monday morning terrified. I take more care selecting what I'm going to wear and fussing with my hair than I've ever done before in my life. I'm afraid that he'll look at me and regret what we did. I'm afraid that I've lost my mind and it was all a dream.

"I'm glad you finally got over your problem with Edward," Rosalie says, and I can tell by her tone that she's nervous about bringing it up. Maybe that's why she waited until we were in the car.

I don't know what to say, so I shrug. I've never spoken to her about him, except once to say that I thought he hated me. It's one of the only things we don't talk about. She sighs at my reluctance to speak of him, but then we arrive at school, so she drops it. She pulls into the lot and parks her shiny red Toyota (our parents bought it for her when she started her Junior year, and when she goes to college, it'll be mine) right beside Emmett's Jeep. She looks confused, but shrugs it off. "I'm going to the Cullen's after school," she says. "I'll give you a lift home if it's raining."

I shake my head. "I'll walk." It's always raining, but I don't mind walking. It gives me time to think.

"I'll wait anyway."

I nod at her and wave at Emmett as I climb out of the car and head into school. I wonder why he has the Jeep. The Cullen kids usually come together in a Volvo. I've only ever seen it at school. When Emmett comes to visit or pick up Rose from home, he's always in the Jeep. I scan the lot, but I don't see the silver car. I figure there must be something wrong with it.

My palms are sweating and my heart threatens to beat out of my chest as I walk into the building. My eyes are everywhere, hoping I'll see him and terrified at the same time. Should I pretend we barely know each other? Should I walk right up to him and say hello?

I wish I could greet him and slip my hand into his and kiss him, just like I've seen Rose do with Emmett a million times.

Life is horribly unfair.

I wonder... Even after what we had, what we did, nothing was said about what would come next. Did a few clandestine orgasms mean that we were together (because above all, that's what I fantasised about), or was that all it was? What did he actually say to me? He admitted that he liked me. He admitted that he'd wanted me for a long time. Had he satisfied his curiosity? Was that all I would ever get from him? I want to turn and run from the school, terrified that he will ignore me in the halls like he always has before. Afraid that he will pull me aside and say 'thanks for the handjob, but I don't want anything else'.

I don't see him in the halls, and I go to class still distracted and conflicted.

~v~

I accidentally on purpose linger in class when the lunch bell rings, and by the time I get to the cafeteria, it's full. I don't bother standing in line. I don't think I could eat, so I walk straight to the table where I always sit without giving Edward's corner my usual furtive glance.

Eric's already seated, a tray full of food in front of him. "If you think you're gonna scrounge off me, don't even think about it," he says, noting my lack of food.

I crack an almost grin. It's the first time I've smiled all day. "Not hungry."

"So how'd Saturday night go? The big event?"

I stare at my friend, certain that he'll see everything that happened in my eyes, or in my face, or in the way my hands are shaking.

"Uh oh. That bad, huh?"

"Umm." I drop my eyes to the table, focusing on the dings and scrapes in the surface of the veneer. "It was okay."

"No revelations? No announcements?"

I panic. "What?"

"You know, your sister and Emmett? They haven't set a date or anything?"

I relax. Everyone's waiting for it. They are the rare couple that find each other early on and stay together all through high school and beyond. There's been a lot of disappointed boys over the years, because my sister (and I'm not saying this because she is my sister, because what younger brother would?) is easily the most beautiful girl in the school, yet she's only ever had eyes for Emmett Cullen. "No." I suddenly wonder why the Cullen's came. I realise that I did expect something, but if anything had been said or announced, I don't know that I would have registered it anyway. "Something about college. I wasn't paying much attention."

"You're such a fucking space cadet, Jas." Eric is laughing. It's not an uncommon sentiment, coming from him. He stops, looking at something over my shoulder. My skin prickles, and gooseflesh ripples down my arms. Eric looks back at my face, his eyebrows drawn together. When he speaks, it's low, as if we could be heard on the other side of the crowded cafeteria. "What was whatsisface like? 'Cause he's looking over here right now. He done with that ignoring you shit?"

I groan. "Ummm. I guess. I dunno. We played some Halo," I said under my breath, wishing Eric would drop the subject.

"You're kidding me? Did you cheat? He looks pissed off."

Oh god. He's angry because I haven't spoken to him. My skin crawls, and I feel the heat of his gaze on the back of my neck. I stand too quickly; my chair scrapes noisily across the linoleum floor. "Sorry, man. I gotta go." I ignore the shocked look on Eric's face and head for the door, not daring to glance toward Edward where he sits with his friends.

~v~

I'm in the bathroom, running wet fingers through my hair when he finds me. I stare into the mirror in disbelief, as if I really do believe I was dreaming. That he would approach me at school is unfathomable.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

No. I'm not okay. My entire world, my safe and predictable and secret world has exploded and I don't know whether it's a good thing or a bad thing, because I want him so badly and yet I'm afraid of what it all means. I try to speak even though I don't know the answer. All I can do is let out a whimper and screw up my face and I try to look at him instead of my reflection, because my brow is furrowed and I'm frowning and my eyes are red-rimmed. He is beautiful, the perfect lines of his face marred only by the look of genuine concern.

"Do you regret it?"

I manage to shake my head, and I know it's the truth because if it really happened, there's no way in hell I'll take it back. "I'm just...freaking out."

His lips twitch and I realise that I've echoed his words of two nights ago. "I know," he says as he slowly moves toward me, one tentative step at a time, as if afraid I'll bolt. "Me too."

Yet he's strong and unruffled, while I'm falling apart.

He puts the palm of his hand on the small of my back; he turns me and I'm thankful I don't have to see my own tortured face any longer. "Are you okay?" he asks again.

"About what?" I spit out, genuinely needing to know exactly what I'm supposed to be okay about because there are so many things, so many conflicted things to be okay or not okay about in my head. I'm okay about kissing him and humping his leg like a dog and having him come in my hand. I'm not okay about having to change the habits of almost two years in the space of two days because someone's gonna notice, and what if they find out?

"About us. I mean, the other night."

"Us?" My brain is not connected to my mouth. But then, it never is.

He looks worried. "I...I dunno. I thought..."

I stare, my heart leaping on the hope that he wants there to be an 'us', but my brain tells me that it's impossible. My heart doesn't want to listen to my brain, it wants to grab this thin possibility, it wants to know for sure. "What?" I ask. My voice sounds hopeful. I reach out, I touch him, I wrap my hand around his wrist, and I look down, surprised, because I don't remember telling my hand to do that. He looks down too, flexes his fingers and when we both look up again, he's smiling.

I'm afraid he's going to realise that I'm not capable of thinking or speaking or acting coherently when he's close.

"I like you," he says, and I know this already, he told me in the kitchen, so I nod. "The other night... I've never done that before. With anyone."

I nod again, and it's my way of saying that I haven't either, but I'm surprised. He's perfect. I can't imagine anyone not wanting him. I can't imagine that he's never had the opportunity before. I don't think he knows that it was my way of saying I hadn't though, so I speak. "Neither have I."

His smile is radiant. He leans in close to me, his free hand slipping around my neck.

I flinch and turn away. "Umm..." We're in the boys bathroom, and anyone could walk in and see us. I glance toward the door, and I probably look terrified. He lets me go, but when I release his wrist he takes my hand and bites his lip, then smirks and drags me into one of the stalls. I try to protest, but he doesn't listen; he shuts the door behind us and pushes me up against it.

We are connected from hip to knee, and his breath is hot on my face. "You okay?" he whispers, I nod, and he kisses me. It's soft, his lips barely brushing mine, yet I've opened my mouth to him already; my eyes close and when his lips barely graze the corner of my mouth I whimper, because I want more and he's not giving it to me.

"Shhh."

My face feels tight, like I'm struggling to control my expression. It wants to screw up, to screw my eyes shut tight, and this makes no sense to me because why would I be fighting this? Then I realise that it's because he's not giving me what I need, he's teasing me.

My arms are hanging loosely by my sides, and it's such a waste when I could be touching him. I wrap one around his waist and the other around his neck, letting my fingers slip into his hair. I grip, and I smile when he sighs, because his lips finally open, and I pull him to me and kiss him like I want him to kiss me.

He's the one making noise now, tiny moans, humming around my tongue as I explore his mouth. His hands are on my hips, his hips are shoving against me like he was in the kitchen, and it hits me that this is even less of an appropriate place than it was then. Again, I push him away, but before he can look at me with that hurt expression I speak. "If someone comes in..."

He steps back. "I didn't mean to do that..."

"It's okay...I just..." I worry that we'll get carried away. But then I don't care, because he has his hands on me again, on my hips, and one wanders around to my backside and slips into the back pocket of my jeans.

Edward pulls out my phone. "I wanted to give you my number the other night. I don't know whether I forgot or just chickened out. Maybe a little of both." He's tapping away at the keypad as he speaks, then he hands it back to me. "I really wished yesterday that I'd just done it. I couldn't stop thinking about you."

I wait for him to hand me his phone, but he doesn't. I wonder what that means.

"I almost called you, so many times," he continues. He chews on his lip. "I have your number. I found it on Emmett's phone, ages ago."

I feel a little better about the fact that I secretly invaded Rosalie's privacy, checking to see if she had Edward's number on  _her_  phone. She didn't. I like the fact that he wanted my number badly enough that he'd invaded Emmett's. "You should have."

"I will then." He smiles. "I have to go. Alice will know I went after you. She'll be far too excited about it. I have to chill her out."

I stare at him in shock. "Alice knows?" It explains her reactions on Saturday night, but I'm panicked. "What does she know?"

"She's always known that I liked you. I never told her anything, I swear. She just knows. She knows me."

"Oh, Jesus." My lungs hurt. I don't understand the relationship between twins. I do know that I almost never see Edward and Alice apart at school, except for the class that Edward and I share. I have to trust that she won't say anything (though it's so hard to do because I barely know her at all), and I say goodbye.

"I'll see you in Bio." Edward grins, then kisses me quickly and disappears out the door. I stay for a few minutes, trying to calm the panic. I'm not ready for this, I know it.


	4. Chapter 4

I round the corner as I hurry to class and walk right into Edward and Alice. It's instinct to duck my head and push past, but I stop myself. Edward glances at me and gives me a subdued, yet warm smile, then looks back at Alice and raises an eyebrow.

She sighs and rolls her eyes. "You don't know me at all," she says, feigning offence. She gives me a smile that rivals the grin she wore on Saturday night. "It'll be okay," she says, her voice low and strangely soothing. She reaches out and pats Edward on the cheek. "You be a good boy."

"I'm always good. Now go to class."

I watch Alice move down the hall, in no hurry though the bell to signal the start of class is imminent. "What was she talking about?" I ask Edward in a low voice.

"I asked her to keep it to herself."

"It?"

I'm carefully not looking at him, but I see the smirk on his face from the corner of my eye. "It. Whatever  _it_ is."

There's an unspoken question there, but it's not the time for me to answer it. I glance at the classroom door; he sees me do it. "Come on."

~v~

I slide into my seat, and it feels very strange. Surreal. The difference between this moment and the last time I sat here is stark and evident. Friday afternoon the tension was thick; now, it's almost dissipated. I see from the corner of my eye his hand on the edge of the desk, his fingers twitching as if he wants to reach out across the aisle. I put my own hand on the edge of my desk and risk a look at him. He's watching me, my face burns and I look back down.

The room is filled with talk and the scraping of stools on the linoleum floor. I register the teachers voice, and the room slowly quiets. Class begins, and my attention is distracted by the girl I share my table with and Edward turns to his own neighbour. I wish (not for the first time) that we shared a table, but it's the first time I wish it where I don't also have to wish that he didn't dislike me so intensely.

The lesson needs my full attention, so I almost forget about Edward. It is only at the end, once my neighbour and I are finished our task, that I glance back to him. He's laughing with his partner over who will take the blame if they fail the task. I want him to laugh like that with me.

I hope that one day he will.

He's still laughing, still sitting surrounded by open books when class ends. I linger as much as I am able, but he still sits there when I put the last book into my bag and zip it closed. I can't sit and wait, and so I stand slowly and leave the classroom, my heart and lungs tight in my chest.

I'm halfway down the hall when I hear heavy footsteps behind me and he calls my name. When I turn, he looks hurried, dishevelled, his backpack slung over his shoulder, hanging open, his arms full of badly stacked books. "Hey," he puffs. "What are you doing after school?"

I grin at his awkwardness, his disorganised appearance. "Homework?" The same as always.

He slips his bag off his shoulder and shoves his books inside with no care for their protection, then zips it closed. "You wanna do it together maybe?" He seems uncertain. "I can give you a lift home... Rose is going to our place after school..."

I realise he's arranging for us to have time alone. My parents both work, neither will be home until after six. Over two hours alone with Edward. I nod, carefully controlling my excitement. "Yeah, definitely."

~v~

As I leave the school building at the end of the day I realise that I don't know where Edward is parked. My assumption that their car was in the shop must have been wrong, unless he intended me to ride in Emmett's jeep. How will he get from my house to his? Do I intend to push him out the door before my parents arrive home? It is the most obvious course of action, I think. I'm afraid of my mother's reaction if she knows that Edward and I have spent time together. She'll be ecstatic if she thinks we are friends, my father too (but quietly).

I head for Rose's car. On the other side of the jeep, the Volvo is parked. Edward must have come late. But my heart leaps into my throat again because now Rose will know that I am going with Edward.

Just last week we hated each other (or so everyone thought) and she will assume we have put aside our differences. I'm not ready for this.

Rosalie greets me as I approach. "Edward told me you're getting a lift with him," she says, and climbs into her car. "Tell Mom I'll be home after dinner, okay?"

I nod, and she starts the engine and drives away. Emmett and Alice wave from the jeep and follow. And there is Edward, leaning against the side of the car with an amused smile on his face. "Coming?" he asks.

My mind flicks forward in time to the two of us alone in my house. I hope so, I want to say, but all I can do is blush at my thought. I walk up to him and he opens the passenger door. It moves something within me, but I'm afraid someone will interpret the gesture the same way I have, so I glare, and he drops the handle as if it burns and mumbles an apology, though his smile doesn't disappear. I wait until he moves around to the drivers side before I climb in.

The car isn't what I expected on the inside. Discarded junk food packaging litters the floor at my feet. One side of the back seat is covered in jackets and sweaters. I've heard Rosalie say that she refuses to ride in this car, but she never said why. Her car is always immaculate.

Edward catches me looking. "I'd blame the mess on Em and Alice, but at least a third of it is mine."

"It's fine," I say, and it is. I couldn't care less; I'm watching  _him_ as he starts the engine, focusing on his long fingers as they wrap around the steering wheel.

"Do you have your permit?" he asks when we are halfway down the road.

I nod, and he turns quickly to glance at me and smile. It's beautiful. "Rose never lets me drive, though," I tell him. "Says she had to wait 'til Junior year to drive, I can too."

When he pulls up outside my house he waits until I'm out of the car before he opens his door. I wish I'd found my keys on the way, because now I have to stand outside on the porch and hunt for them in the bottom of my bag. It's started to rain heavily, so Edward is huddled close to me under the eaves. His warmth is distracting.

Finally I find them, fumble the right one into the lock, and we are inside. I dump my bag by the door and shrug off my jacket. I watch as he removes his. He's wearing a long sleeved t-shirt that fits closely over his chest and arms. I want to touch him. He looks up, catches me watching him and bites his lip against a grin. I can't breathe. I feel warm all over. We're alone, and there is no chance that we will be disturbed for the next two hours. I take a step toward him and hear his breath rush out. His head is lowered and I wonder if he knows what he's doing when he looks at me from beneath his eyelashes like that.

I reach out, placing my palm flat in the centre of his chest and move my body closer until we are pressed together. He takes a step back and hits the door. We haven't kissed yet, but we are close, feeling the warmth of each other's body and the electricity that flows between us. His hands fall onto my waist, then move up and around my back with a gentle pressure that tells me, yes, he does want me here, pressing against him, fitting my hips against his.

I feel him get hard. His breathing is hot and heavy against my cheek. He whispers my name, a tortured plea for something, and his fists clench at my back.

"What do you want?" I ask. I can barely believe that it's my own voice, it sounds so confident and strong. "Tell me."

Edward groans, turning his head, dragging his lips against my cheek, searching for my mouth. I give it to him, his tongue slips in, and I lose it.

I attack his mouth with my lips and tongue, his body with my hands. I tug at his shirt, pushing it up so I can touch his skin. A fine dusting of hair surrounds his nipples, the texture lingers on my fingertips even as my hands shift up and surround the back of his neck so I can kiss him harder. His hands slip down to my ass, pulling my hips into his before they slip around to the front of my jeans.

He turns his head away and looks down as he slips the button free. "I wanna touch you."

I want him to touch me, so I lean back and watch as he draws down the zipper. My jeans are tight, maybe a little too tight, but he squeezes his hand inside and wraps his fingers around my cock, still within the confines of my underwear. I'm wearing boxer briefs because they sit better under these jeans, and my cock strains against the stretchy fabric. There's no way I'll be able to get my jeans zipped up again now.

We're both looking down as he strokes my length, and we look up at the same time. He smirks lazily, his eyes sparkling. "Take your shirts off," he says as he takes his hand off my dick and tugs at the hem of the short sleeve shirt I'm wearing.

I make short work of the buttons and shrug it to the floor, then peel off the long sleeved thermal I had on underneath. It's not cold in the house, but I shiver and my nipples harden. His hands are warm as they move over my chest, barely brushing my nipples, but it makes my breath hiss in past my teeth. He strokes my stomach, making it clench and quiver, and then he touches my cock again.

That's what I want. I want him to touch me there. I take my own hand and wrap it around his, making him hold me tighter. He hums and kisses me, but quickly, then he leans forward and whispers into my ear. "I wanna suck it."

I grunt and shove my cock into his hand, almost coming apart at his words. "Fuck, yeah, please."

He turns us both, pushing me so it is my back to the door. Slipping his hand into my underwear he kisses me and hums into my mouth as he rubs his thumb over the tip. He pulls his hand out and slips his thumb into his mouth.

"Holy shit." My hands are twitching, wanting to grip his shoulders and push him down to his knees, but I wait. My cock is twitching and throbbing and all I can think about is having his mouth on it, having his beautiful lips wrapped around it.

I've dreamt about it. Fantasised about it. Imagined it while I stroked myself to orgasm.

Finally (finally), he presses his lips to my shoulder. Then over one nipple, flicking it with his tongue. My hands move to his shoulders, I can't help myself, but I don't push. He moves lower, so slow, but his lips on my skin, his tongue dipping into my belly button as he finally drops to his knees, teases me, makes me tear at my lip with my teeth to control the urge to beg and plead and physically make him take my cock into his mouth.

He's getting there.

One last kiss and lick to my stomach. My cockhead rubs against his chin. The scruff there that proves he hasn't shaved since I saw him Saturday night provides insane friction even through the fabric.

The head of my dick presses against his lips. I groan and finally plead with him. "You're killing me," I whine. "So fucking close..."

Edward makes a sympathetic noise, hooks his fingers in my waistband and pulls it down, releasing my cock. He stares at it, and so do I as I will him to do something, anything. He glances up quickly, looking uncertain. "I've never—"

"I don't care," I spit out, because right now it feels like all he will have to do is breathe on me and I'll come. "Please."

His laugh is low and incredulous. He licks his lips and puts his mouth around the head of my cock and I have to clench up all over just to stop myself from grabbing his head and shoving my dick down his throat. "Fuck," I say, unable to look away from the sight of his pink lips around the end of my cock.

His eyelashes flutter and he moans around my dick and sweeps his tongue across the underside of the head.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I chant as he opens his mouth and takes me in as far as he can. He gets a rhythm going, then he opens his eyes and looks up at me. They're dark, intense.

"Oh, fuck," I grunt.

Edward shudders as his eyes drift closed and he growls around my cock and takes it further into his mouth. The texture of his tongue, the way I can feel his throat around the head of my cock overwhelms me and I think I'm falling apart.

"Fuck...gonna come."

He growls again, his throat clenches around my cock, and I'm gone. I hold him around the back of the neck as firmly as I dare, I look down at him, and he looks up at me as I fill his throat. I struggle to keep my eyes open. I feel him swallowing as I pump into his mouth.

My head falls back against the door and I shudder as he licks me a few more times then pulls my underwear back up to cover my softening dick. I make a contented noise as he shifts up my body and pushes his head into my throat, chuckling softly.

"Fuck," I breathe, unable to conceptualise any other word, and yet I think my tone says everything.

"Yeah," Edward agrees.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Holy shizz, guys! I'm blushing, with all the reviews, and alerts... It's nice, to feel wanted, and all ;) I think I'm trying to say thanks, but I kinda suck at it O.O Umm. Thanks :)  
> So! Lots of new faces :) Some of you may not be aware that this isn't my usual thing ('this' being AH, and E/J). If you're exclusively AH E/J inclined, you'll find a couple other things on my profile of that ilk. If you spread your wings on occasion, or are a little more liberally inclined in your affections, you'll find all manner of pairings on my profile, and a hefty slathering of vampfic. It's kinda my thing.  
> Go on. You can't say you don't like it if you've never tried it. Try it. I dare you. ;)  
> What I'm trying to say is, if you like the unbeta'd hard drive detritus that is A Madness Most Discreet, you should check out the stuff someone actually fixes for me before I post ;)  
> (Either my tongue is embedded firmly in my cheek, or my foot is wedged firmly in my mouth. I haven't quite figured that out yet.)  
> Oh! Before I go I better tell you that I got nominated a bit in the Twifestivals (twislash awards). My girl venis-envy did too :) She's my competition! Support the slash corner of the fandom by going to twifestivals dot blogspot dot com and vote!  
> Enjoy the chapter :)

"I'm a little embarrassed," I say, staring down at my Coke. I press my hand around the can, hoping that somehow the chill will stop my face from burning. It doesn't. 

"Jas?" 

I grunt. The sound has a question mark at the end of it. I don't want to look at him. 

"Come on, man. It's a compliment. I thought I wasn't gonna be any good, but..." 

I look up and can't help smiling. "You were awesome." 

He grins and shows his perfect teeth. "Plus, you know, we're sixteen. It goes with the territory." 

I laugh. So does he. The sound fades, and I sigh. We each have books open on the kitchen table in front of us, and though we haven't spoken much since we sat down, neither of us have turned a page. "What are you doing?" 

"English, you?" 

"Math. Can't concentrate." I smirk and blush. 

Edward closes his book with a flourish. "Neither. So what do you want to do?" 

"Maybe I should ask you that?" 

"You did. I'm fine." 

"I feel like I should—" 

He rolls his eyes. "Definitely not if you feel like you have to." 

"I didn't mean—" 

Edward grabs my hand and pulls it towards him. The cover of his textbook rumples. "Chill." 

"Okay?" It's easier said than done. This boy that I have lusted after for so long, that I thought hated me, has in the space of two days told me that he wants me too and has just blown me up against the front door of my house. I know it's not a competition as to who comes the most often, but twice now it's been me first and I worry that he will think I'm using him or taking advantage or that I don't want to touch him as much as he wants to touch me. 

My forehead aches from frowning and I scrub my fist across it, willing my face to relax. I want to get all this out of my head, but I can't put the words together in the right way. Instead I squeeze his hand and hope that he knows what I want and how I feel and what he means without having to say a word. The way he smiles at me, I think maybe he does, as long as I'm still not having delusions. 

I've convinced myself by now that Saturday night was real, it did happen. The feel of his mouth around my cock is still so fresh that I know I didn't imagine it. All the things I wished for are suddenly within my reach, or at least I think so. We're friends now, I think. Is he my boyfriend? It's what I wanted, but I don't know. Maybe this is just convenient for him. I guess it _is_ terribly convenient, that we both like boys, that our families have an excuse to spend time together, that we each know the other is gay. 

I start to realise other things. I remember thinking I was in love with him, despite the fact I thought he had some hidden grudge against me. We'd barely spoken. I didn't know him. Despite my belief that he disliked me violently, all I ever heard about him from anyone who knew him well were good things. It was never just the outside of him that I found attractive. Through my sister and her boyfriend I knew that he was quiet, and kind, and funny, and he loved music. He liked to draw. Despite being popular at school he spent a lot of time alone. But I didn't know him. 

I know him a little better now. I know that he's unorganised and he doesn't look after his things. I know he makes a humming noise when he kisses (and when he has a dick in his mouth), and that he tugs at his hair when he's embarrassed or nervous or doesn't quite know what to say. I smile, and my eyes go to the mess on top of his head. 

He looks confused. "What?" With his free hand he runs his fingers through his hair, but only succeeds in making it stick in all directions. "Is it awful? I swear I got the shit genes in the family. Fucking uncontrollable—" 

"It's fantastic," I say without thinking. I start to feel warm again and drop my eyes to the table. He doesn't say a word, doesn't finish his thought, and though I'm not looking at him, I feel him looking at me. "I used to imagine how it would feel," I whisper, "if I ever got close enough..." 

He still has his fingers wrapped around my hand. His thumb brushes over my knuckles, then his grip loosens and he moves his fingers over the back of my hand. "I wondered how your skin would feel," he murmurs. "When you touched me the other night, when you touched my hand, I thought I was dreaming. I thought my heart was gonna stop, or my lungs were gonna burst or something. It was amazing. I used to imagine what it would be like to kiss you, and then you kissed me." He wraps his fingers around my wrist, pulling gently as he leans forward over the table. I look up and let him pull me to my feet and across the corner of the table. He gets to his feet too, and our chairs scrape on the wooden floors as they are shoved out of the way, and his arms are around my waist, and mine are around his neck, and his lips are on mine and we are kissing. Slowly this time, soft. There are no hurried, hungry movements this time. Nothing is taken. Each of us give, and recieve, and we kiss, and break apart to smile at the other, and kiss again. We're both hard, but our hips merely rest against each others. I want to move against him, but I don't need to, and if he does then he hides it well. 

There are less kisses now, more smiles. Whispered words against throats and shoulders. He laughs a lot, especially when I tell him how good he smells, how soft and wonderful his hair is. I pull back and look into his eyes. "Come up to my room," I say. 

He bites his lip and nods his head, his smile getting bigger. 

I glance at the clock before I drag us both through the kitchen door and head to the stairs. We have an hour. 

~v~ 

"Shut up," I tell him when he tries to insist that I'm doing this out of some sense of obligation. "I want to." 

"I don't know if I can." 

Edward is sitting on my bed and I am kneeling on the floor between his knees. His jeans are still on, still zipped and buttoned, but I rub my hand over his erection, revelling in the way his eyes drift closed and his lips part whenever I push my hand over the fly of his jeans. A small whimper escapes his lips. "I like those noises you make," I say, making him laugh. 

His laughter stops and his expression freezes when I flick the button out of the hole. I feel him shiver as I lower the zip. 

"I hope I do a decent job..." I release his cock and look at it close up for the first time. It's thicker than mine, perhaps a little longer too, I'm not sure. But it doesn't make me feel inadequate, like it might if we were two guys in the locker room. 

It turns me the fuck on. On Saturday night, all I wanted to do was feel it in my hand. Now I want much, much more. I want to taste it, I want it in my mouth, I want to rub my own cock against it, and though the thought, now that it is a distinct possibility rather than simply a fantasy, makes me a little apprehensive, I want him to fuck me with it. 

"Please just suck it," he begs, his voice strained. 

I look up into his eyes and grin, and without looking down, stick out my tongue and lick away the pre-come from the slit. 

The sweetness doesn't surprise me (I've tasted my own pre-come before), but still I moan. I want more, and I take the head into my mouth and swirl my tongue around it, searching for more. 

I have Edward Cullen's cock in my mouth. 

And I fucking love it. 

He leans back on his elbows and watches me. I can't tear my eyes from his face, his parted lips. I know what it looks like to him, I know (I hope) how he feels, both things that he didn't know when he did the same thing. I'm enthusiastic (hopefully that makes up for lack of experience), and try to take as much as I can. I remember what it felt like when he took me deeper and try...but find I can't do it without my gag reflex threatening. But still, he's making those noises, cursing in soft grunts, thrusting his hips up off the bed. I slip my hands under his ass and encourage him while I use my tongue at the back of my throat to make sure I'm as comfortable as possible. 

I love having him in my mouth. I feel his cock twitch as I dig my fingers into his ass cheeks. I love it when he thrusts up into my mouth and spits out "fuck," and "goddamn," and "shit, Jasper," and I especially love it when he pushes his fingers through my hair and grips on and pushes my head down onto his cock and yells "fuck, oh fuck," and holds me there as he starts to come, his cock pulsing and twitching and pumping out onto my tongue. He's groaning, and I'm moaning and swallowing, and his fingers pull my hair hard and shove me down onto his cock again as he pumps one last spurt into my mouth. 

His fingers loosen in my hair and he slumps backwards onto the bed. 

He doesn't move except to fling one arm over his face, and then he lays there, still except for the rise and fall of his chest. I crawl up beside him and fit myself into his side. 

"Sorry," he whispers, so softly I can barely hear it. 

"Don't be." 

He lifts his arm and looks at me. His eyes are wide, his brows drawn together in confusion. I lean and kiss him with close pressed lips, but he immediately invades my mouth with his tongue. When we break apart, he sighs. "I should go home." 

I can't argue with him, though I would rather lie here, warm beside him until I fall asleep. "My mom will be back soon." 

He looks at me. "Right. You don't wanna have to explain..." 

"Hell no. I mean, she'll just assume we're hanging out (unless she was to walk in here right now), but that'll be bad enough when she finds out." 

His look suggests he has no idea what I'm talking about, but I think he's smarter than that. Rose and I talk. I know the Cullen's know what my parents are like, and I also know that they don't hold it against Rose. And I guess not me, either. Or at least I'd like to think so. I don't say anything in explanation. 

"I kinda got the impression your mom liked me," Edward teases. 

"That's the problem." I don't elaborate. I'm mortified by my parents shallowness, and I don't want to talk about it. Rose got over it a long time ago; perhaps it was the acceptance she got from the Cullens that made her so immune. 

Edward sighs and rises, fastening the button of his jeans. I think he's blushing. The tiny smile he gives me as he does it makes me think he might be a little embarrassed. 

"I liked it," I tell him, rolling onto my side and resting my cheek on my elbow. "You were really into it." 

"I was. I am." His cheeks get redder and he looks away, chewing his lip. "Do you want me to call you tonight?" 

"That'd be cool." 

~v~ 

I'm clearing my books off the kitchen table when Mom walks into the house. 

"You were doing your homework down here, honey?" she asks. 

I can't help blushing. She's standing right where Edward was kneeling less than two hours before. "Yeah. Rose is at the Cullen's. She'll be home after dinner." 

My mother gets that look on her face, the smug, self-satisfied smile. It changes. "Did you talk to Edward today?" She's so excited because she thinks we're going to be friends. It's all she talked about on Sunday. 

I know that my face is burning. "Yeah." I concentrate hard on collecting my pens and stacking my books and sliding them carefully into my bag so I can take them upstairs. On impulse, I tell her that he drove me home. 

I think her smile might split her face in two. 

~v~ 

I answer my phone on the first ring. It's him, of course it's him, and I keep my voice low when I say, "Hey," into the handset. 

"Hey." He sounds amused, or happy, or something. "Rose just left, in case you were wondering." 

"Not really." 

"I had to wait 'til she was gone. She's been giving me funny looks all night." 

Alarm bells ring. "Why?" 

"Emmett tells her everything, doesn't he? I kept expecting her to give me the whole 'what are your intentions?' speech." 

I stare at a smudge on the bland off-white paint on my bedroom wall. 

"Jasper?" 

"She...she knows? About you? That you're..." 

There's a few moments of silence while Edward waits for me to finish the thought. I don't. 

"Gay? Yeah. Well, she must, by now. It's not like it's a secret. I mean, at home, anyway. She's 'round here all the time." 

"Fuck." Alice was one thing, and Edward seemed to trust her. But this... "I didn't know your family knew." 

"Oh. Umm... is that not good?" 

It must be wonderful, for him. To be able to be honest, to be himself around his family. I can't imagine it ever working for me. "Like you said. Emmett tells her everything." 

"Come on, Jas. Emmett doesn't know anything. All he—and Rose—know is that we hung out." 

"But she knows you're gay. She's not stupid, man. She'll figure it out. Fuck." 

"What are you worried about? She's never been anything but cool to me." 

"You're not her brother," I hiss into the phone. 

"I don't know what to say." 

I have to consciously loosen my grip on the phone. If I squeeze it any tighter I'm afraid I'll break it. "Sorry. I just... it's not Rose. It's my parents. I don't expect you to get why. I can't tell them. I don't want them to know." 

Edward is silent for a few long moments. I can hear him breathing. Then finally: "I think I get it. Rose, though, she won't say anything, will she? She's not... She's not like _that_ ." 

We both know what he's referring to. "No. She's not. She doesn't care about..." Money, status, prestige, what others think or don't think of her. 

"Then it's okay, right? Even if she figures it out? Don't worry, Jasper." 

It's so hard not to. "Okay." This isn't the way I saw this conversation playing out. 

Edward sighs through the phone. "I guess that means... I was hoping eventually we could... Damn." He sounds sad, dejected. I don't like it. 

"What?" 

"I dunno. I guess I hoped that we wouldn't have to sneak around. I get jealous of Emmett, you know? Him and Rose, they can just... At school, at home. They don't have to hide." 

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry." 

"Would you, though? If we could? Would you want to, you know, tell people that you were with me? Like... _together_ ?" 

"Is that what you want?" I feel bad for hoping that it is, when it's because of me that he won't be able to tell anyone. 

More silent seconds. "Yeah. You?" 

I find myself nodding and feel ridiculous, because he can't see me, but it's because I have such a wide, stupid smile on my face that I don't use words. "Yes," I tell him. 

"Oh, good. I was worried it was all about the sex." He's laughing softly. 

"What the fuck, man?" 

He's laughing louder now, giggling. "Don't tell me you're not thinking about it too." 


	6. Chapter 6

Rose's voice hollers at me up the stairs, telling me to hurry or we'll be late for school. I grimace and glance at my watch. There's still fifteen minutes before we usually leave the house. I'm ready to go, but I'm sitting on my bed with a notebook and a pen. The page is blank, and I've been chewing on the end of the pen trying to decide if I should really be writing any of it down at all.

What if someone were to find it?

"Hurry up, Jas," she yells again.

I stuff the notebook under my mattress and the pen into my bag and I go downstairs. I can't bring myself to look at her, in fact I wish I could have avoided her completely. I know she knows. She must suspect, at least, and I'm afraid that if the subject of Edward comes up at all that the answer will show clearly on my face.

Even though I don't look directly at her, I still notice that she looks at me hard while I head for the door.

I'm already in the car when she comes outside. I stare straight ahead and say nothing, make no mention of the fact that we'll be early. She starts the car and we're both silent for the entire five minutes it takes us to get to school.

There are only a few other cars in the lot. I reach for the door.

"Hang on, Jas."

I freeze, my hand on the latch, but say nothing.

"Can we talk?"

"We couldn't have done that at home?"

"Not with Mom still there, no."

I finally look at her, and I'm aware that my expression is accusing, defensive, something. Rose looks nervous. In my mind, I beg her not to ask the question I'm dreading.

"How well do you know Edward?"

That's not the one I was expecting. I stare at her, confused. "We'd barely spoken before Saturday. You know that."

She sighs. "I know him pretty well, Jas. I know you thought he didn't like you before Saturday, and I didn't know for sure because he never talked about it, but it didn't seem like him. I think I know why he might have acted like that, but I'm not sure if you do. And if you don't, I can't say, because it's not my place to say it."

I know what she's talking about, but to admit that I do would be to admit everything. "Either cut the cryptic or let me out of the car, Rose."

"Dammit." She runs her fingers through her hair. It's something she does when she's frustrated with our parents. "He likes you, Jas. I mean, he really likes you."

A shiver runs through me, tingling my skin all over. I can't help the smile that twitches my lips and I hide it too late. She's seen it.

"Shit. I'm right, aren't I?"

I play dumb. "About what?"

She gives me that look, a withering look that tells me to cut the bullshit. "Why didn't you tell me?"

I don't give in. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Rose." I open the door and grab my school bag but she grabs it by the strap before I can climb out of the car.

"I don't care, Jas. If you are. And you could do a hell of a lot worse than Edward. But you're only sixteen. I'm not going to Emmett's after school today. I'll be at home, and if Edward comes over, that's fine, but your bedroom door will be open, same as mine when I was a sophomore and Emmett was there."

I stare at her in horror, my mouth opening and closing.

"Don't worry. I'm not gonna say anything to Mom and Dad."

I can't get any words out. Eventually I close my mouth, tear my bag from her grip, shove open the door and get out of the car. I can't get away fast enough.

~v~

 **Where are you?**

I press send on my phone and wait for a response. It's a few minutes before it comes through.

 **Just got out of the car. You?**

 **Inside. Rose knows. She fucking knows everything.**

 **Did you tell her?**

 **No! Need to talk to you.**

I wait by the main door for him. I don't think about the fact that Rose would have waited for Emmett, but she is with them. I meet her eyes, then look pointedly at Edward, turn and walk away. I head straight for my first class, and when I peek in the door the room is already half full of students. I stand outside.

He finds me. There's no sign of Emmett or Rose or Alice. "What's wrong?" he asks.

"She fucking told me that if you're at home we have to leave the fucking door open," I hiss, low enough so that anyone passing in the hall will not be able to hear.

Edward grins. "I got the same talk from Dad last night," he tells me.

I stare, incredulous. "Everyone knows now?"

"My family and Rose. I didn't say anything, I swear. I didn't even confirm it. But they know how to read me."

"It's all happening too fast," I say. "I can't deal with it." I note the worried look on his face, but I walk away from him anyway.

~v~

I can't help hoping that he'll text me during class, or that he'll wait for me after. He doesn't. I'm not angry at him, I have no right to be, and I regret leaving him like that, but I'm scared. At lunch I avoid the cafeteria altogether, skip lunch for the second day in a row and head straight for the school newspaper office. Eric finds me there after he's eaten, and he wonders why I didn't meet him at the caf like I always do.

I give him some bullshit about wanting to get an early start on this months issue, but in the twenty minutes I've been in the room and staring at the computer screen I've done exactly nothing.

I wish I could use the paper as an excuse to skip Biology, but I've tried it before and it's never worked well. So I go to class, slipping into my seat when everyone else is already seated. Edward looks over at me with a concerned expression on his face. I frown and shake my head minutely, hoping that he will understand that I can't deal with it yet.

At the end of the hour, I slip out of class ahead of him again. He doesn't catch me up. At the end of the day, I don't pass through the parking lot. I start home on foot.

It takes me half an hour to walk home. I need the time to think. All I see in my mind is his face when I turned away from him, when I told him I couldn't, it was too much. I wish I had his confidence. I wish I had the support he does.

~v~

I'm lying on my bed with my music up loud when Rose gets home. I don't hear her get in. The first I know that she is home is when she bursts through the door.

I raise an eyebrow at her. One thing we maintain here is our privacy. I'm surprised that she didn't knock first.

"You could have let someone know you were getting home on your own," she says. "We waited for you."

I look up at her without saying a word.

"He's worried about you."

"I'm fine."

"Whatever. He's not. Just so you know."

I close my eyes and concentrate on the music being pumped directly into my ears. I'm trying hard not to think about his face and the way it looked.

"Turn your phone back on, Jas."

I roll my eyes and sigh. "Will you go away if I do?"

She nods, and so I reach for the schoolbag on the floor beside the bed. My phone is in the side pocket, and I pull it out, press and hold the power switch. It gives off a series of tones. "Happy?"

She nods and slips out of the room, pulling the door closed behind her. I put the phone on my nightstand and ignore the rattle as it dances across the polished wood again and again.

I can't deal with it right now.

~v~

I can't sleep. I wonder what he's doing right now. Is he lying in his bed awake like I am? Is he okay? Is he as conflicted as I am?

Normally when I can't sleep, I reach for the cardboard box under my bed and find some release while I think of him, but that won't work now. For a start, I haven't replaced it yet. But I'm not thinking about sex, or that kind of release at all. I try to, remembering his lips around me, but even though I find myself aroused I can't bring myself to wrap my hand around my cock. I want to lay here, hard and unresolved, while I think of the hurt expression he wore when I looked at him last.

It's a kind of penance, a punishment that I deserve.

My phone still sits on the nightstand, blinking its message alert into the darkness. It occurs to me that if I was to shut it off and still the flashing I could sleep, but I don't do it. I don't deserve to rest.

I made him come. I made him come in my hand, and I made him come in my mouth. I felt powerful then; I could make him feel good. I felt good because he wanted me. Now I just feel wrong because of that look I put on his face.

 _I can't handle this, I can't deal with this._

It's not a conscious decision to reach out and take the phone, but I find it in my hand. It's not a conscious decision to open each and every one of the four messages he has left since I walked into class yesterday morning, but I read each of them.

He doesn't accuse me of anything. He understands. He felt it too, still feels it when away from the safe embrace of his family. He wants to be able to shout to the world what he feels, but can't. He hopes I'm okay. He wants me to call him.

I can't call him. It's three in the morning. So I text.

He replies almost immediately. It's okay, he says. I get it, he tells me. You don't have to apologise.

I lie back in my pillows, relaxing for the first time since I got off the phone to him the night before. Good night, I say, and he says it back. I go to sleep.

~v~

I'm brave. I nod when Rosalie asks if I'm okay as we climb into her car. "A little tired."

"Have trouble sleeping last night?"

I nod.

"Did you talk to him?"

I nod again, and I look directly into her eyes. I'm brave. It's so hard to do, because with that unwavering gaze, I'm confirming what she already knows. It's hard, but I do it because he's what I want. He's what I've wanted for so long I can't remember not wanting it, and the only way I can have him in any way possible is to be honest.

At least where I  _can_ be honest. Here, in this car, with my sister, I can be honest.

Rose nods back at me. She understands. "Be careful," she says as she pulls out onto the street.

I don't really know what she means. There are lots of things she could mean, but I'm not sure which one it is. "I will."

~v~

Rose leaps out of the car, leaving me to lock my own door as I collect my things. She's gone, and so is Emmett and Alice when I climb out, and it's only Edward here. He leans against the back passenger door, and I don't look at him until I've closed the door, but when I do, I stare. I remind myself how lucky I am to be able to look into his face, something I couldn't do mere days ago.

"Sorry."

"I told you, don't." He smiles, softening the comment that my paranoid mind could have twisted so badly.

"What I said... about not being ready. I want to be. I don't know how."

"It's okay."

"The thing I'm not ready to do... it's not  _this_ , you know." I make a vague, quick gesture, twisting my fingers in the air between us.

The smile that splits his face is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. His eyes crinkle just a little at the corners. It hurts to look at him.

"I wanna kiss you," I breathe.

His eyes grow wide and his smile falls away and his mouth opens and he starts to breathe in deep, slow breaths. "Oh god."

My lips are burning.

"You can't. Not here."

"I know."

The bell rings as we stare at each other. He closes his eyes and stabilises his breathing, then he opens them. "We should get to class." He pushes off the side of the car and brushes by me. The back of his hand sweeps past my thigh. A shock goes through me. I catch up to him and we walk side by side toward the nearest building.

~v~

Edward grins at me across the crowded cafeteria and jerks his head back, inviting me to sit with him. I look around his table. Alice is there, and a crowd of other kids that I know by name and reputation but I don't really know them.

They are the popular kids, and I'm sitting here with just my closest friend. Not unpopular, per se, but there's a difference.

I roll my eyes back toward Eric. He is oblivious to the exchange, staring down at his sandwich, chewing and talking about the editorial with his mouth full.

Edward mouths 'bring him' and beckons with his hand.

I give Edward what must be a severely pained expression and he rolls his eyes. Alice notices our exchange and stands, pulling Edward to his feet, and without checking to see that he's following, lifts her tray and begins to weave past the students in her way.

I look right past her as he follows her across the room.

Eric looks up mid-chew and mid-word as Alice slides into a seat beside him. He stares. His eyes flick to me, then to Edward as he sits between Alice and myself, then Eric's eyes flick back to me again. He makes a sound that clearly means 'huh?'

"Eric, right?" Alice says. "I hope we're not interrupting, but Jasper was telling us all the other night about how you're really the brains behind the school paper—you know our brother and his sister are together, right? Our families hang out, you know—and I thought it sounded really interesting and I was talking to my friend Angela, do you know Angela? She's into photography, and I was telling her she should be on the paper because it would be good practice for her, but she's too shy to say anything, you know?"

I could kiss Alice.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a bit carried away when I got my Google+ invite and have been ignoring all the writing and editing I'm supposed to be doing. Yeah, I'm a little addicted. Join me ;) glpl.us/vampthenewblack
> 
> I edited this at midnight, so please forgive any tense fuckery. It was kind of a mess and it's entirely possible I didn't get it all. I've also got a funny feeling that none of the recent chapters, this one, or any of the following, have been pre-read. Spank me later :D

If I don't get to touch him soon, I'm going to explode. The closest we get is his hand on my thigh as he drives to my house after school, or our knees touching under the table at lunch. After school, Rosalie watches us. If we go upstairs, so does she, and her room is across the hall from mine. She knows, I know she knows, I know she's okay about it, about the fact that her little brother likes boys.

One boy.

Yet I can't bring myself to let him kiss me when she's around.

At school, it's impossible. For some reason Eric won't leave me alone. When Edward's there, so is Eric. When Edward comes into the paper office, Eric won't leave.

Eric speaks to Edward in non-verbal grunts and gestures. I'm too afraid to ask him what his problem is because what if he knows? He's my best friend. I wouldn't be surprised if he did, if he can see what Rosalie and Alice can see.

It means I touch Edward even less than I'd like. When he steps close to me, I step away. I glare when he stares at me. And I tell him that I'll ride home with Rose this afternoon, thanks, because Eric is right here and frowning as I wish I could get Edward alone for just two short minutes.

I know that Edward is fighting the hurt expression. I know that he wants to ask if I still want him to come to my house, and I want to tell him yes, I want to tell him that I can't deal with wondering what Eric is thinking all the time, but I still want him there even though I can't touch him.

"I'll text you," is all I say. And I do, as soon as Edward drives away and Eric says goodbye and I get into the car with Rose. I text him and beg him to please come to my house as usual because I swear today I'm going to tell Rose to mind her own damn business so I can touch him again.

 **It's Friday. Movie? I'll pick you up in an hour.**

Even better. Alone with him—or as alone as two people can get in a crowded theatre. Rose goes silent when I tell her and doesn't say a word until we get in the house. I don't care, I head for the stairs to shower and get dressed before he arrives.

"Hang on, Jas."

I freeze with my hand on the banister.

"I feel like I'm lying to Mom and Dad," she says. She sounds worried, her voice is strained.

I turn around and sit on the bottom stair. "I can't tell them, Rose. You know that."

She sighs. "I know. I just feel like... You have a boyfriend, you're dating. I kinda feel like they should know something, you know?"

It's the first time either of us have acknowledged that exact fact in words to the other. It gives me a jolt, but it makes me smile, because she said it with no hesitation, no uncertainty, and it's only then that I truly know for sure that my sister accepts me completely. Unfortunately the contrast between her acceptance and the expected reaction should my parents know the truth is stark and ugly. "They'd try to stop me from seeing him," I say.

Rose frowns. I like to think that she sees the implication that I see. Should they find out that Edward Cullen is gay, they might attempt to halt the relationship between his family and ours in any way they could. They'd try to stop Rose from seeing Emmett as well. "I'm not lying for you. I'll tell them you've gone to the movies with Edward. Just Edward."

It's fine by me. They treated him like an honoured guest when he was still here last night when they arrived home. I shrug and rise to my feet. "I'm sorry," I tell her.

She shakes her head. "Not your fault." The suggestion of whose fault it is hangs in the air between us and we exchange a wry smile. "You behave yourself tonight, Jasper Hale."

I laugh at the serious expression on her face. "Are you gonna give me a curfew?"

Rosalie's eyes roll back in her head. "It's Friday night. I figure the usual applies." Her lips twitch. "Has Dad given you the sex talk yet? You know I got mine younger than you, when Emmett and I started dating."

I feel my eyes grow wide as I stare at her in horror. "We are not talking about this," I spit and start backing up the stairs.

She laughs out loud. "I know that one of you has already had it, and recently." She looks entirely too pleased with herself. "Emmett told me. Apparently Edward was mortified. His dad did it at the dinner table and everything."

"Oh my god." I'll never be able to go around there, though Edward has been trying to convince me to go this weekend. I can never look any of them in the eye again.

I'd wondered what Alice had been teasing Edward about yesterday morning when we arrived at school. He'd gone scarlet and refused to tell me why.

~v~

I spend perhaps a little longer than usual in the shower. My mind goes to places perhaps it shouldn't, and I find my self palming my cock, attempting to ease the arousal that comes so easily when my mind goes to him. It's hard enough at school to push it away when it could so easily expose me, but now I can't deny it. I close my eyes and tip my head back and let the water flow over my face and body as I slide my hand up and down my length. The only way I'm going to ease this need is to get myself off, and perhaps it's wise, especially since I'm going to be spending the next few hours in his company—in public.

I think back to the feeling of his warm mouth around my dick as he sucked me off against the front door of my parents house and I come quickly, then stand under the water in a daze for long minutes.

When I come back to myself, I realise the water has cooled. I shut it off and leap out, wrap a towel around my hips and throw myself into the hall.

Right into the arms of my boyfriend.

He smirks at me and slips one hand down to grab my ass. "Did you get distracted in there?" he asks.

I gape at him. Have I really been that long in the shower? Despite the embarrassment warming my cheeks, and the orgasm that is such a very recent memory, the way he touches me has my cock stirring again. "What time is it?"

"I'm early." He drops his voice and whispers: "Rose thought you were ready." He gives me a lopsided smile and pulls me down the hall and into my bedroom.

I'm naked except for a flimsy towel around my hips. Water still drips from me. I'm alone in my room with Edward, and I'm rock hard again already. I let him push me up against the closed door and kiss me and I don't care where Rose is and what she'll say when she realises the door is closed and we are inside and I am naked.

Edward flicks the tucked corner of the towel out and uses it to wipe the moisture from my body. When I'm dry, he drops the towel to the floor, takes my face in his hands and kisses me slow and soft. "I missed this," he whispers against my lips.

I did too, but I can't articulate it. He drops his right hand from my cheek, wraps it around my cock and he begins to stroke. Slow, but firm. Twisting his wrist a little over the head. Making me need to come again. I whimper.

"Shhh," he says.

I nod, but it's hard to stop the sounds coming from me when he has my cock in his hand.

His lips move close to my ear as the shifting of his hand over my length quickens. "Did you jerk off in the shower?" he whispers.

I nod, well past the time for embarrassment.

"Do you think I can make you come again?"

I nod.

"Do you want me to make you come again?"

"Yes," I hiss. "Fuck, please."

He chuckles and slips his left hand down to my ass. He squeezes my cheek, massages it. "Love your ass," he whispers, his voice strained, and it's then that I feel how hard he is against my hip. He squeezes again, and groans, and grinds into my hip, all the while stroking my cock.

I'm close, closer because of his cock pressing against me, because of his hand on my ass, because of the noises he's making.

He squeezes again, then he moves his hand further around, slips his fingers into the crack of my ass and groans into my ear: "Love your ass," and if I cared what I sounded like at that moment I would have been mortified at the squeak I let out but I don't because it's followed with a grunt as I clench up and build up and then I'm coming harder than I would have thought possible so soon after what I did in the shower.

I collapse against him, my arms around his shoulders as he coaxes the final shudders from my body. He lets out a nervous laugh and pulls away, taking the damp towel from the floor and wiping off his fingers and forearm. "Good thing your house is warm," he whispers, and I wonder what he's talking about until I realise that he's not wearing his jacket, just a short sleeve t-shirt and he has my come all the way up to his elbow.

I grunt in response. I'm exhausted and suddenly very aware of my nakedness. I leave him to his clean up and head straight for my drawers and quickly pull on a shirt and a pair of boxers before I can bear to look back at him.

He's smiling at me as I pull up my jeans. I blush and look at the floor, but he comes to me, puts his arms around me and forces my head up and kisses me. "Tell me," he says, "should I have left you to get dressed and not attacked you like that?"

I laugh. "Of course you  _should_  have. Did I look like I was complaining though?"

His grin is lopsided. "Definitely not." The grin disappears. "Did you like..." he trails off, but slips his hand onto my ass again, making it perfectly clear what he means.

I moan. "What do you think?" I bury my face in his shoulder, unwilling to look him in the eyes.

I feel his breath in my hair as he exhales, warm and long. "Fuck," he says, so quietly I feel it more than hear it.

~v~

We are half way to Port Angeles before I realise neither of us has spoken since we climbed into the car. I am very relaxed, which doesn't surprise me at all, and I'm completely consumed with watching Edward drive. He's focused on the road, his hands are as they should be, at ten and two. The sleeves of his jacket end just on the wrist bone, and I'm fascinated by it, by the light dusting of hair on his hands that shines gold in the setting sun.

The music that quietly filters from the speakers is an eclectic mix of artists, from sweeping classical pieces to sweet ballads to upbeat pop to heavy rock music, from all era's, and arranged with no apparent logical order. It's different from the CD he's had in all week, the one I've heard when he's driven me home. I find I like it, and the change from one style and beat to another continues to surprise me. I recognise some of the songs, but not all. The ones I do make me wonder why he chose them, sometimes make me blush because a few of them have very suggestive or even entirely explicit lyrics.

"What is this CD?" I finally ask.

He glances at me, a smile on his lips, then back to the road. "Just some stuff I like. It's random, I know. Change it if you like."

I don't want to change it. I go silent again, and wonder to myself why he likes each song that plays. Especially the one that made me blush the most. I wonder if he will blush if it plays again, if I look at him, but of course the drive to Port Angeles doesn't that long, then we are pulling into the town.

"Do you want to eat first or go straight to the movies?"

I shrug. "Movies first?" I hardly care, I'll do whatever he wants to do, but I like to be able to talk about the movie after a movie, and it's good to do that over food.

So he parks the car near the theatre, and we get out. I linger after I close my door and wait for him to come out, but he's slow. My hands are stuffed deep in my pockets, and when he finally comes to stand beside me my fingers twitch. He doesn't say anything, but neither do I. I watch his face, he almost smiles, then looks to the pavement and bites his lip. The slow brush of his elbow against mine is almost as intimate and telling as if he had reached out and taken my hand.

"Come on," he says. I smile and we walk slowly down the street, his elbow behind mine, occasionally pushing against mine as he gives me a sidelong glance and a lopsided smile and lifts one eyebrow. It makes my face heat and my heart beat faster and makes me wonder what we'll do after the movie, after we eat, makes me want to get him alone and half naked and close with my hands on him and his hands on me and his warm, heavy breath in my ear, in my hair, with my tongue on his skin, tasting him.

I have to stop thinking about it, so I'm thankful when we walk into the theatre. Almost immediately though, I'm thrown into panic. The theatre is crowded and yet as if there is a spotlight on and focused on one person, I see Lauren Mallory immediately. I hadn't thought that there might be people here who know us and the shock makes me breathe a low "fuck."

Edward follows my gaze. "Oh."

My vision expands, and I see that she is surrounded by other familiar faces. Jessica Stanley is there, Angela Webber, Mike Newton, Ben Cheney and Tyler Crowley too. These are all people that Edward knows, people that populate the table in the cafeteria where he and Alice sat every lunch until this week. I don't really know any of them, though some of them are in my classes. Mike sits beside Edward in Biology. Angela I'm getting to know because she's been coming into the paper office. Lauren sits way in the back of my math class with Jessica but she never looks at me since that night last summer at La Push. Ben is in my English class. I don't know Tyler at all, though he always says hi to Edward whenever we pass him in the halls.

It's Edward who stares at Tyler as I stare at Lauren. "Hmm," he says, then turns to me and studies my face. "You want to get out of here?"

I stare at him, pleading, hoping that I can tell him without words that I can't stand the questions. It's one thing for us to hang out at school, quite another to be going to a movie, alone, just the two of us. I can't see that it would look anything but obvious, and I want to be able to be relaxed with him. The whole point of this is for us to be together, to enjoy being together, and we can't do that without being anonymous.

"Come on," he says, looping his hand around my elbow and pulling me back out the door and onto the street.

Edward's not hurrying, so I walk half a step ahead of him. I want to run. "Sorry," I say, half turning so he can hear me. "About the movie..."

He skips the half step so we are side by side. "I don't care about the movie," he says. "Can't be bothered dealing with Tyler."

I force myself to stay in step with him. "Huh," I say. I've always assumed Tyler was Edward's best friend. He's the one I saw him with most of all, next to Alice.

Edward is smiling. "What?"

I shrug. "Why him?"

"He's the last person that would understand. I mean, if you asked him, he'd probably tell you that we were best friends, but he really doesn't know me at all."

"Right." I wonder, does anyone outside his family? "Who is your best friend?"

He laughs at me, looks at me as if I've suddenly gone insane. "Alice." He shakes his head, still laughing. "So. We've got a couple of hours to kill. What do you wanna do?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you in advance for reading and for putting up with my unbeta'd work. I am having it checked for unAmericanness and awkwardness now though. Credit for that goes to my sugar pie honey bunch, [venis-envy](http://www.fanfiction.net/u/2036383/venis_envy). If you like Harry/Draco fic, check her out, she writes beautifully. And she rescued you from a sentence containing 14 instances of the word 'and'.
> 
> My beautiful new banner was made for me by [Raggdoll of Twilight](http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1981336/Raggdoll_of_Twilight).

We get food, drive to the port, sit on the hood of the car and look out over the water as we eat our burgers. I laugh at Edward as he stuffs his burger full of fries before he eats it. He rescues the pickle from mine before I throw it out into the water.

"You're gonna have pickle breath now," I tease.

"Don't care." He leans over and kisses me, even though I've just taken a bite of my fry-less burger and my eyes go wide as his lips press to mine. He grins, and we eat and listen to the songs on the CD that Edward put together himself. When we're done we put our garbage back in the bag and Edward stuffs it in through the window. It falls onto the back seat. I wonder how long it will lie there before it gets thrown out.

We're alone. It's deserted here, and I don't mind when he sits close and leans into me, puts his arm around my waist. I've heard all the songs on his CD now, and they've started again. There's an old one playing, a soulful rock song with harmonica and guitars, but I think it's a cover because though it's very familiar, it's not quite the same as I remember. I've always liked it though, and my foot taps against the bumper. Toward the end, the sedate rhythm changes, gets faster, heavier, a little electronic. Certainly not Bruce Springsteen.

"This one makes me think of you," Edward says, his voice low and thick.

I glance at him sharply. It's not a particularly suggestive song, but as I listen to the lyrics, I blush anyway.

"Not the girl part," he says with a chuckle, then buries his face in my shoulder. I pull his head up and look into his eyes. They're black in the dark. I want to kiss him, so I do.

~v~

We can't sit on Edward's car making out all night. Yeah, it's a little public, but that's not why we stop. We stop because when I lay back and pull him down onto me, we slide off the hood and collapse in an undignified heap on the ground. So we get in the car, and though Edward's driving in the direction of Forks I get the impression that he's not really going anywhere.

"I wish I didn't have to take you home," he says, and when I look over, he's chewing his lip again.

It doesn't take much. I'm on the verge of arousal all the time these days, and the mere implication of what else we could be doing has me hard again. "Don't, then. Not right away. I don't have to be home for a couple of hours yet."

As I pick at the side seam of my jeans I watch him from the corner of my eye. He grins, then he puts his foot on the gas.

~v~

Edward shuts off the engine and the lights go out. It's pitch black and I can't even hear the traffic from the distant road. It's as if we are the only two people in the world.

"Where are you?" he whispers, then I feel his fingers on my arm, on the sleeve of my jacket.

I shift and take his hand. "Here."

"Why are we whispering?"

I laugh. It sounds loud, but I pay no attention because his other hand connects with my cheek, then finds its way down and slips around the back of my neck. We meet in the middle, searching for each others lips softly and clumsily, at first finding cheeks and noses then finally I feel his tongue at the corner of my mouth. He breathes a sigh, then captures my lips completely.

There's something intense, more intense about doing this in the darkness. We could turn on the internal light if we wanted, but I don't think either of us do. Finding each other in the dark, exploring each other in the blackness, navigating the inside of the car. It's hot. My jeans are too tight. I want him closer, closer even than he is now with his hand up the back of my shirt, on my naked skin. It's not cold in the car, but my skin prickles with goosebumps. I don't even think about what I'm doing when I shove up his t-shirt and lean forward to taste the skin of his chest. I find a hard nipple and bite it gently.

"Fuck, Jasper."

I love when he breathes heavy, when he makes those needy sounds. I hold him at the sides of his waist and move my mouth down over his chest, letting the soft hairs tickle my nose and tongue. I find his belly button and feel his stomach tighten as I dip my tongue inside. I rub one hand over his cock, through his jeans, and I'm rewarded with a groan and then a grunt when I bite gently at his hip as I move my mouth ever closer to where he wants me.

"Ahh, fuck, Jas. I don't wanna come in my jeans."

I chuckle to myself, pressing my forehead against his belly as I rub once more over his hard cock with my hand. "What  _do_ you want?"

He groans again. "Want you to suck me." His voice is strained, his fingers as they thread through my hair are shaking, as if he's trying not to push my head to where he wants it. "Please."

My own cock throbs inside my jeans. I guess I like it when he talks like that. I tell him so as I'm undoing his jeans and pulling his cock out and licking the drop of fluid from the end.

"Oh, Jesus. Oh fuck, yeah," he stammers as I take him into my mouth. He feels bigger than I remember. His fingers clench into my hair and his hand twitches, pushing just a little until he groans and lets go of my head altogether.

I pull back and he whimpers. "It's okay," I tell him, then take his hand and put it back on my head before I put my lips around him again.

"You like it? Holy fuck, that's hot," he growls.

I nod my head, my mouth full of his cock. His fingers tighten again in my hair and he pushes me down onto him. He's not rough, or hard or quick, it's just a slow, gentle pressure as he guides my movements over his dick. As I move, and as he grunts and moans and tells me how good it feels, I squirm in my jeans, seeking anything to relieve a little of the pressure.

"Wish I could suck you at the same time," Edward says. The idea immediately takes hold in my head. I imagine I can feel his mouth on my cock and I moan around his dick. His hips thrust up off the seat and his cockhead hits the back of my throat and I gag and have to pull off him till my eyes stop watering.

"Sorry," we both say, but before we have a chance to laugh, we're kissing again and I wonder if he can taste his cock. He has the fingers of both hands in my hair now and then he pulls me back away from his lips and pushes me down to his lap again.

"Please. I promise I won't— Oh fuck."

I want to make him come  _now_ , because  _I_ need to have him touch me so badly. It's this selfishness that has me taking him deeper than before. Slowly I push down, and once I know I can take him further, I hum with satisfaction and Edward pulls my hair, pulling me off before he pushes me back down again. He's hesitant, I know, but I do what he wants me to do, what he needs me to do, and as he gets closer he gets bolder.

He grunts. "Gonna come... oh fuck... in your mouth. Oh fuck." He grunts again and holds me there, and I feel his cock pulsing as he shoots down my throat. I keep swallowing until I'm sure he's done, but as I pull back he gives a last final spurt on my tongue and lips and I find myself giggling as I wipe my lips and lift my head.

My laugh is cut off as he pulls me hard to him and kisses me, licking and sucking at my lips as if he wants to taste his own come. Then he pulls back and I find I can see him now that my eyes have adjusted, more than just an outline in the gloom. "Get in the back," he says urgently, so urgently that I obey immediately, scrambling over the seats into the sea of clothing and discarded books. He follows, shoves everything onto the floor, pushes me back and kneels between my legs. He starts tugging on my boots.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

He grins up at me and tosses my boots into the front. "I'm gonna make you come so hard."

I look down as he falls on my jeans, opens them and starts tugging them down my hips. "I need to be naked for this?"

"Half naked." He pulls my socks off too.

My ass sticks to the leather seats. "Oookay." I can't find the care to complain, because his hands are moving up the inside of my thighs as he lowers his head and licks the tip of my cock. "God..."

Just as I'm looking forward to the second blow-job of my life, I realise it's not going to happen, because he sits up again, kneels between my legs, spreads them, one up the backrest, the other hanging off the seat, and he strokes me with his hand while he plays with my balls, and I've been so turned on for so long that I know I'm not gonna last.

"Tell me when you're gonna come," he says, his voice husky.

I nod frantically. "Prob—probably not long," I stammer. "God, please suck it..."

He lets out a small laugh. "Soon, baby."

I whimper and arch my back as his fingers move under my balls, massaging gently. "God..."

"You like that?"

"Mmmm," is all I can get out as I clutch frantically at the edge of the seat.

His fingers slip further down, and all I can think is more, further, touch me there, but I can't verbalise any of it.

"I can't stop thinking about fucking you, Jasper," he says. His voice is low and sexy and I want to yell please, yes, fuck me, but nothing comes out.

"Are you gonna come?"

"Uh huh."

Edward growls and shifts. His wonderful fingers are gone but then they are back, his mouth is on my cock and I'm so fucking close there's no way I could stop if I tried. He touches my ass, pushes against it with one spit-wet finger. My hips involuntarily buck, driving my cock deep into his throat, his finger slips inside me and I explode and fall apart and scream and thrash and I could die right the fuck now and I wouldn't care.

~v~

I want to sleep more than anything, but I want to kiss him as well. I compromise, keeping my eyes closed as he kisses me. "You okay?" he asks.

"Mmmm," I say, then manage to get my brain around a more eloquent answer. "Hell yeah. You weren't kidding."

"You came hard, huh?"

"Hell yeah." I let my head fall to the side and sigh happily.

"Come on, you have to get dressed."

I frown, because he got me undressed, I figure he should get me dressed again. It's not fair, but I manage to pull myself up. I stumble out into the cold air, pull on my boxers and socks and jeans and boots while he passes me my things and laughs. "Next time you get to be the naked one at midnight in the middle of the forest," I grumble.

"It's nowhere near midnight," he says. "Stop complaining. You've come three times today."

I decide not to tell him about the orgasm I had in the shower before school.

~v~

He pushes me away with one hand on my chest, and I take my lips from his reluctantly, remembering where we are. It's nowhere near curfew, and if anyone's still up and waiting and watching for me, it's not something I want my parents to see. But I don't want to stop kissing him goodbye.

"You should come with Rose tomorrow," he says.

I blink. "Huh?"

"If she comes over."

She always does on the weekend. It scares me, because his family all know about him. About me. About us. I can bear it though, as long as I get to see him. And maybe, just maybe, we'll get to spend some time alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're wondering, the song is [I'm On Fire by Head Like a Hole](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bh-WPwiOODY). A little Kiwi music indulgence on my part :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm. Hello. Yes, I'm back. I've been suffering the epic writers block, and even though this story is written through Chapter 12 (ish—might still rearrange scenes and end up with less chapters), I couldn't even face editing. But! I edited! Yay! It remains to be seen if I can actually still write, but I'll at least get out what I've already written.
> 
> This chapter is fairly low on major events, but I think it's kinda cute anyway. Enjoy :)
> 
> Thanks, as always, to venis-envy, who keeps me sane, keeps me in fandom, and keeps me from making too much of a dick of myself ;) I love you, honey-pie, to the moon and back.

It's not like I haven't spent a lot of time with these people before. Rose is here. Edward's here. Alice is here. I've even been seeing Emmett every morning and afternoon at school, even if I rarely see him during the day. I'm fine with that. It's Edward's parents that are making me nervous. I'm sure I've always come across as the quiet, perhaps shy, perhaps sulky anti-social teenager that, to be honest, I guess I am. I never spoke more than I had to. I completely ignored their son. Until last weekend.

Now, seven days later, he's brought me home as his new boyfriend. If I weren't so uncomfortable, it would be funny.

What's also so ridiculous it should be funny but isn't, is the fact that seven days ago I was utterly, completely, entirely in the closet. Now, I'm out to six people, and not by choice. I'm sure I should be pissed at someone. I would have liked to be able to tell my own sister.

No one to be pissed at about that, I guess. She put two and two together. I've been imagining it for years though. I was always going to tell Rose eventually (but never, if I could help it, my parents). I imagined that I'd say, Rose, I have something to tell you, and we'd sit down, and I'd say it: Rose, I'm gay. And she'd be wonderful and supportive and we'd hug and laugh and it would be great. And really, it hadn't been too very different from exactly that.

But I've been cheated of my chance to  _tell_ her.

"Jasper?"

I blink. "Huh?" Edward's staring at me. So is everyone else in the room. "What? Umm, sorry. What did I miss?"

Edward laughs and elbows me in the ribs. "Dad just said, and I quote, 'We need to establish some rules.'"

I want to crawl into a hole in the ground. It was bad enough when Rose did it, but Doctor Cullen is looking at me with a smile on his face that is so like Edward's, and there is a collective laugh from everyone else in the room. It's horrific. Why is everyone else still here?

As if on cue, Emmett pushes off the kitchen counter he's been leaning on and heads for the door. "That's my cue to be anywhere but here. Been there, done that." He grins at me.

Rose clings to the back of his shirt. "I'm with him."

Alice makes to slink out after them.

Her father raises an eyebrow. "You might as well stay, Alice."

"Pfft. You'll only repeat yourself when I bring a boy home."

Then it's just Edward and me, standing in the kitchen with Doctor and Mrs Cullen. It's a nice kitchen, nicer than ours even, and my parents are ridiculously proud of their designer kitchen. "Sorry," I say, trying very hard to keep eye contact with Edward's father. "I zoned out." Typical. I'm trying to make a decent impression, trying to undo two years of flakey, and I'm probably just making it worse. My palms are sweating, and I wipe them on my jeans. "You're not boring or anything, I just..." I have to drop my eyes to the floor.

Edward leans over and whispers in my ear. "Chill."

I glare at him. "Easy for you to say. You're not likely to get the rules talk from my folks any time soon."

He quirks an eyebrow at me, as if to say 'do you even think before you speak?' and I cringe, because obviously, I do not. He shakes with suppressed laughter and leans his head on my shoulder, and I frown and look up at his dad. "Sorry. Please go on. I promise I'll pay attention."

"It's fine, Jasper," Mrs Cullen says. She stands close to her husband, looks up at him briefly. "But you do make a very good point."

"Yes, well. While we understand that you may have reasons for not telling your parents that you two are seeing each other..." Doctor Cullen pushes his hands deep into the pockets of his pants and rocks on the balls of his feet. "It does put us in an uncomfortable position."

I can feel my face twisting into a frown, and I lean a little closer to Edward. I'm freaking out, worried that they'll force me to tell my parents, and I can't, because they'll stop me from seeing him and that's worse than anything Edward's parents can threaten us with.

"But," the doctor continues, "we've talked about it, and we both agree that it's only fair that we apply the same rules that your parents insisted on when Rosalie and Emmett started dating."

"Huh?" I stare. I feel Edward laughing again, his shoulder shaking against mine.

"That means, doors stay open, and Jasper, you're welcome to stay over on the weekends—that is, Friday and Saturday nights—in the guest room."

What? No insistence that I tell my parents? No extra above and beyond rules because we are both boys? No sex talk?

"And, please, God... No sex."

Edward groans. "Dad..."

His father puts his hands up in surrender. "I've gotta say it. I'm a parent. And I  _know_  you boys are far too young to be thinking about anything like that..."

"Right," Edward says.

"Right," I agree.

"Right," says Mrs Cullen, and when I risk a glance at her I see that she has flushed quite pink.

"Right," says Doctor Cullen, and I'm sure he's trying to convince himself that he is.

The four of us stand awkwardly for a few moments, and then Edward grabs my hand. "Okay, can we go?"

"Of course," his parents say in unison.

Edward starts pulling me towards the door, but just as he puts his hand on it, his father speaks again. "If anything should, ahh, happen, or, ahh, seem like it might happen... You know you can talk to us about anything, okay?"

Edward turns, and there isn't the slightest bit of the tone of horror he had only a short time before. "Yeah, Dad."

* * *

"Oh my God," Edward says when we reach his room. He lets go of my hand and pushes the door almost closed. There's less than an inch of space between it and the door frame. "Loophole," he grins, when he sees my face.

"Cheat."

"You complaining?"

I shake my head. "Horrifying as that was, your parents are actually kinda cool."

"Of course. How do you think I got this cool?"

I wish I had his confidence. I've never been 'cool' or popular and I wonder what on earth he wants with me. I'm the weird kid.

"What's wrong?" He reaches up and smoothes my frown with the pad of his thumb.

I shake my head. It's not something I can put into words, even if I did want to draw attention to it.

"Hmm. You want me to kiss it better?" He presses his lips to my forehead. Automatically, I tip my face up and find his lips. They're so soft and warm, and when his tongue slips out and touches the centre of my lower lip it's an instinctive reaction for me to open my mouth.

And we are kissing, not more than a few steps inside his bedroom door, the door that's open just a crack, but I forget about it so quickly with his arms around my waist, holding me close to him.

Our hips press together, and I feel like I already know the contours of his body like I do my own. I feel it as he hardens against me and his hands slip down over my ass and pull me closer as he gives a little thrust against me.

But he's only playing. Teasing me, because he pulls back and grins.

"What the fuck?" I ask.

He smirks, inhales, and breathes out through his nose, all while he watches me. Then he pulls his lower lip between his teeth and bites down. "You're gorgeous," he says, and I can't be pissed at him anymore.

Heat rushes through me and settles in my chest. It feels tight there, like I have to struggle to breathe. And I do, taking deep shuddering breaths that rock my whole body. This is it, that feeling that I would get on the odd occasion I could watch him without being observed. This is it that kept me from ever speaking more than a few words to him. This is it that stops me from speaking now. Any words I want to say collect in my throat, making a lump. I cough, trying to dislodge it, but it's not a physical thing. I want to tell him how I feel, but I don't know the words for it. I want to touch him, but all I can manage is to circle my fingers around his wrist. Mine, I think, and is this really real? and so fucking beautiful, and kiss me...

It's like he knows what I'm thinking, because he comes back to me, pulling his arm, the one whose wrist I have trapped, around his back. My hand goes with it, and it's as if he's saying yes, I'm yours, this is real, and I squeeze his wrist and hold him tight to me, and he kisses me, soft and slow and gentle.

Neither of us notice the door swinging inward until it hits the wall with a thump. We both hear the sound, but don't register it's meaning until we hear the voice.

"Holy shit. Check out the big gay spectacle."

Our heads turn as one, but we don't release or step away from each other. We're staring into Emmett's grinning face, his body framed in the doorway.

"Don't stop on my account. It's my first time. And not as weird as I thought it would be. Kinda sweet, really. You know, in a seeing your baby brother with his first boyfriend kinda way. It's a sorta proud moment."

I'm gaping at him in something like shock. Rosalie steps out from behind him and smiles. "I agree." She's blushing though, and pulling on Emmett's arm.

Emmett lifts an eyebrow and tells us to keep the door open before he lets Rose lead him away. Edward and I look at each other.

"I guess we'll have to think of something else to do," he says, kicking at the edge of the door. I wonder if we'll be able to think of anything, because all we've done before is talk and watch TV and fool around. But Edward goes to his stereo and changes some disc's and then there is music, something upbeat and cheerful that makes me smile. I finally look around his room. It's large, for a teenagers room, but the whole house is big.

A closed laptop sits on a desk against a wall made entirely of window. I can see barely any actual desk surface, it's littered with books and scattered scraps of paper and pens and CD cases. A pair of jeans—I think they're the ones he was wearing last night—hang over the back of a chair, pulled askew from the desk. Other items of discarded clothing lay in haphazard piles on the floor and make a pile on the foot of his bed.

It's a large bed, and makes my single at home seem like something a child would sleep in. I quickly look away, and fix my gaze on the overflowing wastebasket. Balls of paper surround it.

"Huh," he says. "I guess I should have tidied up a bit."

I laugh. "I don't care about that."

"I was going to, I swear, but I got distracted."

I'm curious. "By what?"

He shrugs. "Music."

I wander over to the desk and pick up a sheet of paper laying half over the laptop. It's sheet music, the specially lined paper covered in pencilled notes. I look up at him and he smiles at my questioning expression.

"You write music?" I ask, more shocked that I didn't know, than the fact that he might.

Another shrug, this one modest, as if it's nothing.

I look around the room for an instrument and see nothing. In fact, the only instrument I've ever seen in this house is the one that takes up space in the main room downstairs. "You play the piano," I realise.

It's as if he's waiting for some reaction. I don't know that I'm having one. I'm simply taking the time to integrate this new knowledge into what I know of him, and I like the new picture I have.

I like everything.

"You do?" he laughs.

I realise I've spoken aloud. I blush.

"I'm glad you do." He takes the paper from my fingers and lets it fall onto the desk, then pushes his fingers between mine and tugs me towards the huge bed.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm tired," Edward says with a smirk as he crawls on backwards and pulls me down beside him.

"Jesus. What if someone comes up?"

"Then they'll see us taking a nap. What did you think I was suggesting?" He lifts an eyebrow and grins.

"You really need to sleep? Late night?"

He nods, and I finally see that his eyelids are heavy. He shifts, burrowing into the soft duvet and slipping one hand under the pillow. He's lying on his side, facing me, a gentle, weary smile on his lips as his eyes drift closed and he presses his leg against mine. I reach out and touch him, stroking his temple with the tips of my fingers and he sighs. My heart hurts, but I can't stop staring at the pink in his cheeks and the way his eyelashes curl. They're dark at the root, but pale at the tips and shine almost gold in the weak sunlight that filters through the glass wall.

"You smell good," he murmurs. "You should roll around on my bed so it rubs off."

I snigger, because I'm a teenage boy and my mind goes to predictable places.

His eyes flutter open, and he yawns, stifling it with one hand as he squeezes his eyes shut tight. "Dirty mind." His eyes don't open again. He shuffles closer to me, and I wrap an arm around his waist and he sighs. Slowly, his breathing evens out, and I realise he is asleep.

I watch him, for a long time, enjoying the rare sun that warms my back and listening to the muted voices that filter up from downstairs.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I completely dropped the ball on review replies this time round, I know. Sorry! Thanks to all who reviewed, and I feel compelled to mention reve2weaver specifically because she is such a thoughtful and consistent reviewer. venis-envy, of course, is the centre of my universe and stops me from looking like too much of a dick.  
> It's pretty much porn from here on out, kids, so that underage sex warning applies. Don't like it, wander off and read something else. Yeah right, I know you all want the porn ;) Just a few chapters left until the end of part 1, there'll be a bit of a resolution, pretty pink bow and all that, and I'll be wandering off to finish Deja Vu, my HPDM, and of course NaNo is looming. So it's likely I won't come back to AMMD until next year, but I do intend to do so, especially considering I have the entire second part outlined and can't wait to write it.  
> Another note about the sex to follow in the next few chapters. I honestly didn't intend it, but these boys have minds of their own. Naughty boys. Typical boys...

"Jas, wake up." 

I register a sharp pressure against the flesh of my upper arm. "I'm 'wake." My voice is thick, my mouth dry. I open my eyes as I turn my head toward the intrusion and see the face of my sister, towering above me. 

Rose has an eyebrow raised as her gaze flicks the length of me and—I realise—Edward, as we lay entwined on his bed. "It's after six," she says, her voice hushed. "D'you want someone to take you home?" 

I stare up at her, confused, trying to make my sleep laden mind work. "Huh? Aren't you..." 

"I'm staying tonight." 

Of course. She stays most Saturday nights. I glance back at Edward. He's still sleeping, his lips parted just a little. I feel his even, warm breath on my cheek. "I don't wanna go home," I whisper without thinking. 

"Either way, you're gonna have to wake him." Rosalie turns and walks on quiet feet towards the door. I hear her soft huff of laughter as she slips out, and I notice she pulls the door almost closed. 

I don't want to wake him, but I either have to say goodbye or hope that he asks me to stay, so I lean in and press my lips to his. His breath hitches. 

"Edward," I whisper. "Wake up." I kiss him again, an innocent brush of my lips against his. He sighs in his sleep, but that is all the reaction I get. So I make my tongue wet and drag it along his lower lip. He sighs, but doesn't move, and so I close my mouth over his full lower lip and suck. 

He moans, and his eyelids flutter, and he shifts closer and wraps his arms around me. His eyes open and he kisses me back. He surprises me when he rolls me onto my back and drapes his body over me. I have to turn my head away to catch my breath, but he only moves down to my throat and kisses my neck, pulls the neck of my t-shirt aside and licks my shoulder. 

"You're awake," I say. I'm trying to be calm, but I can't, because his lips on me make me shiver. 

"I'm awake." His hands are everywhere, one stroking down my side and over my hip, the other pushing up underneath my shirt. 

"It's getting late. I should go home." 

He pulls back and looks down at me. "Why?" 

"For dinner. My parents—" 

"Stay." 

I stare up at him. This is what I wanted, what I told Rose I wanted. But now that he's asked I realise I have to call home and tell them I'm staying. 

"You heard Mom, right? You're always welcome. So stay." He smiles and his eyes sweep over the bed we are lying on. "I like waking up with you." 

"But...the guestroom..." 

Edward pulls his lower lip into his mouth and bites down. He's trying to stop the grin that spreads across his face. "I'm gonna sneak in. We won't get caught." The worry must show on my face, because he flops down beside me, facing me, and brushes his fingers across my forehead. "I swear. And if we do, I'll take all the blame, I promise." Then he jumps up from the bed and takes a cordless phone from the cradle on his nightstand and hands it to me. 

I hold it and stare up into his eyes for long moments. His lips twist in a smirk and he looks from the phone in my hand, to me, and to the phone again. He lifts an eyebrow in question. 

I take a deep breath. They're going to want to know what we've been doing. What we have planned for the next day. "They're gonna want to know why." 

"Tell them we're gonna explore the forest out the back of the house tomorrow. Early. So it's best for you to stay." 

I nod. It'll work, and hopefully there won't be too many questions. 

* * *

I'm relieved when my father answers the phone. He's quieter, less inclined toward verbal excitement, and so it's easier to tell him that I'll be home tomorrow and have him relay the message to my mother. 

When I hand the phone back to Edward, he replaces it in the cradle and climbs back onto the bed beside me. He's chewing on his lip again, his eyes burning with excitement. "I can't wait 'til tonight," he whispers into my ear, and the implication in his voice has me growing hard. Just his voice can do it to me, have me hungry, needing him, and so I roll toward him and welcome his arms around me as he pulls my hips to his. It's not enough, and I roll back, pulling him with me, until he's lying on top of me, his legs between mine. "This could be dangerous," he murmurs against my lips as he rolls his hips in a slow thrust against me. 

I have to agree, but I can't verbalise it, not with his hard cock pressing against mine, not with the gentle rhythm he sets, and when my head falls back and his mouth goes to my throat again I moan and wrap my legs around the back of his knees. I'm afraid of coming like this, of coming in my jeans as he rubs against me, but I don't care because it feels so good. 

I hear the steps on the stairs and the booming voice at the same moment as he rolls off me and I thank god that Emmett is so big because it gives us just enough time to break apart before there's a knock at the door. 

Edward sits on the edge of his bed, and I am lying on my stomach when Emmett and Rosalie push open the door. "Are you staying?" Rose asks, and I nod. "Esme says dinner's at seven." She pushes past Emmett and continues down the hall. 

Emmett's still standing there, grinning at us. 

"What?" Edward says. There's tension in his voice. 

Emmett shrugs. "You wanna take a cold shower before we eat?" 

"Fuck off, Emmett." 

Emmett grins wider and then slowly walks away, leaving the door wide open. 

* * *

We don't bother with a cold shower, but we do stay away from each other until dinner. I'm nervous, at first, worried that Edward's parents will resent the fact that they weren't consulted before I was invited to stay, but they are as genial and welcoming as always. Edward spends most of the meal casting me looks from underneath his eyelashes and I'm sure he knows exactly what it does to me, because soon after, I feel his foot on my ankle, and from there it travels up the inside of my leg. 

I glare at him and pull away, but it only makes him grin at me across the table. Alice giggles beside me. She knows exactly what he's doing, and when Edward realises, he leaves me alone. 

The rest of the evening is torture. We sit in front of the television with the rest of the family. I watch Emmett and Rosalie curled up on a couch together with envy. I'm sitting beside Edward, and he wraps his arm around me and tries to pull me into his arms, but I'm painfully aware of his parents in the room and even though I know it's not against the rules, still I can't make myself relax into him. 

Dr. Cullen leaves first, murmuring something about an early shift, and his wife isn't far behind. I feel sorry for Alice, sitting alone, and it's another reason I can't drape myself over my boyfriend. After a while she gets up and sits on the other side of him, and having given up on me, he pulls her into his arms and rests his chin on her head. 

Rose and I get on well, for siblings (we've got that us-against-them thing going on with our parents), but I can't imagine being like that with her. 

I never imagined being like that with anyone until Edward. 

* * *

The house is silent, the sounds of teenagers going into their respective bedrooms having died away several minutes before. Edward had whispered to me as we walked upstairs, he'd wait until he was sure everyone was asleep. But despite our afternoon nap, I feel sleepy. I struggle to keep my eyes open, wishing that I'd asked him for a book to read, and despite the anticipation and apprehension I feel, I know I won't be able to stay awake. 

* * *

I wake up suddenly. There's a warm hand wrapped around my dick. "Fuck, Edward," I gasp. I can barely catch my breath. I'm so fucking hard, and I want more, so I thrust into his hand and turn toward him. 

"You fell asleep," he whispers, then he kisses me and yanks my borrowed pyjama pants down to my thighs. I kick them off and grab his wrist, pulling it back to my cock. 

He chuckles, strokes me a few times, and then half covers me with his body. He's naked, hard, and he pushes his cock into my thigh. "Get your shirt off," he urges, and so I do, arching underneath him in order to pull it off and throw it onto the floor. Edward rolls onto me, spreading my legs with his knees, pushing his cock against mine. He holds my head in his hands and kisses me, and it's so easy to raise my knees, to wrap them around his knees, to move with him as he thrusts against me. 

"I wanna fuck you," he mumbles against my lips. 

I'm still half asleep, I think, and I'm so turned on I can't think clearly. I moan, and move underneath him, and the friction is insane. "Oh, god," I moan, and I grab his hips, and I'm trying to stop him, but he pushes harder against me. 

"I have lube," he grunts. "And a condom. Jasper..." He thrusts again. 

"Oh god. Edward..." 

He grabs my hips and moves, and he slips just a little further down my body and his cock slips down under my balls and presses against my ass. 

"Fuck, Edward..." I want to tell him no, but I can't. I can hardly breathe, I'm gasping for air, and I want... I want him, I want it, but not here. Not when I'm hardly awake, and we haven't even really talked about doing it yet. 

"Can I?" he asks. "Please." 

I shake my head frantically, tearing my lips away from his. "I can't." 

"Shit." Edward groans and pushes again, firm, steady, the head of his cock right against my ass, and it feels... Scary. 

Scary, but good, and my knees clamp around his hips and I press up against him. 

"Fuck, Jasper, I want you so bad." 

I grunt and squirm beneath him. I want to come, but my cock isn't getting enough attention because he's arched up, holding his body a little away from me as he grips my hips and rocks against me. 

"I can't," I tell him again. 

"Yeah," he gasps. "Okay." He grunts and shifts, pushing my knees back down to the bed, and then he holds our cocks together and starts to thrust against me again. "This okay?" 

"Yeah," I nod, and hold onto his shoulders, hold onto him and let him get us both off. "Make me come," I beg. "Please." 

"Mmm. Fuck." He stops what he's doing and shifts sideways. He reaches for something, and then his hand returns, gripping our dicks, pressing them together once more, but this time his fingers are slick with lube. "Oh fuck yeah," he groans, moving his hips rhythmically, thrusting his dick through the circle of his fingers, rubbing it hard against mine. 

"Fuck, harder." I dig my fingers into the meat of his shoulders and arch up. "That's it, more." 

"Fuck, Jas," he grunts. He stiffens, pumps our cocks harder, and he starts to come, screwing his face up against my cheek, groaning loud in my ear, and the first spurt hits my stomach in a hot splash. 

It's so hot, so dirty. He's coming on me, and it's raw and sweaty and messy. I start to come, and I feel his cock pumping against mine, and I scratch him and bury my face in his throat to muffle my cries. 


	11. Chapter 11

He's warm. He smells good. A little sweaty. He smells like sex. He's got no shirt on (it suffered the clean up), and one leg of his pyjama pants is hitched up around his knee. I haven't bothered putting mine back on again yet. I probably should, but I'm too sleepy. 

"Are you awake?" I whisper. 

"Mmm." He wraps his arm tighter around me. 

"Don't fall asleep," I say. "If we get caught..." 

He grunts. "Alarm. Phone." 

"Hey." 

He lifts his head a little, but it's too dark to see if he's looking at me or not. 

"I'm... I'm sorry." 

"Eh?" 

"I didn't want to..." 

He snorts. "Nah." He drops his head back to the pillow and curls around me tighter. "I shouldn't have asked. You were so fucking hot though. Moaning and saying stuff." 

I'm suddenly wide awake. "What? When?" 

"When I got in here. I think you were still asleep." 

"What was I saying?" 

He chuckles and buries his face in my neck. "Fuck me," he whispers. "You were moaning and saying 'fuck me'." 

I can feel my face burning and I'm glad he can't see me in the dark. "I was not." 

He laughs again. "You fucking were." He moans, and I feel his cock move against my leg. "Now go to sleep." 

Easier said than done. I can't stop thinking about it. Even though I can't remember saying it, it's easy to believe that I did. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. I roll over, away from him, to hide the fact that I have a raging hard-on, and he wraps his arm around me and presses his cheek against my shoulder. 

He's hard, too. His pyjama covered cock nestles between the cheeks of my naked ass, and I can't help pushing back. 

"Jas..." he whispers. 

"Mmm?" 

He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "We're not going to be sleeping, are we?" 

I shift again. "Probably not." 

He pushes against me, moving his hips, rocking them, and his hard cock slides between my cheeks. "Fuck." He takes his arm from where it's been against my chest, and he shoves his pyjama pants down, and then his hot, hard, cock is right there, squeezed between my ass cheeks. He moves again, sliding it up, then down, then up again. "I really want to, Jas." 

I moan and push back. I have to grab my cock because it's so hard it's hurting, and I focus on the feeling of his cock sliding between my ass cheeks, the head of his cock as it rubs over my hole as I stroke, and every time it does I grunt and shove back at him. _Do it,_ I think. _Just fucking do it._ I don't dare to say it out loud, I just want him to do it, and I clench my ass cheeks around him and push back when his cock is right there, pushing against me, so fucking close. He's leaking pre-come like crazy, and he grabs his cock and holds it there, sliding it against my hole, spreading it around. 

"I really want to," he whimpers against my shoulder and then he pushes his hips forward. 

I push back. 

I cry out, because the tip of his cock is inside me. It's just a tiny bit, the tiniest little bit of his cock is inside me, and I'm still pushing back onto him. 

"Shit, Jas. Fuck." His voice is high pitched and tense, his whole body is tense, and then he twitches his hips forward. 

My eyes fly open. "Ow," I squeak. 

Edward whimpers. He holds me tighter for a moment, and then he starts pulling away. 

But I don't want him to go. "No," I whisper. "Stay there, please, it's okay." 

He stops. "If I stay there, I'm gonna fuck you, Jas," he whispers. 

I moan and reach back for him, trying to pull his cock back to my ass. "I want you to. I want you to fuck me." 

"Okay." His voice is rough, shaky. "Hang on." He rolls off the bed. 

My mind explodes. Edward's going to fuck me. We're going to fuck. We're going to have sex. He's going to put his cock in my ass. My eyes roll back in my head and I almost come just from thinking about it. I stop stroking my cock and grab my balls and squeeze, and I moan. I'm vaguely aware of the fact that Edward is moving around the room, and then he's back. 

He pulls and pushes at me, and manages to get a large, fluffy towel underneath me. I realise he's laid it sideways over the bed at the level of our hips. "Better than having to explain why we changed the sheets," he laughs, and then he slides in behind me again. His pyjama pants are gone. "You okay?" 

I nod, but then realise he probably can't see me in the dark. "Yeah," I breathe. 

He rolls me onto my back and drapes himself over me. His lips move over my cheek and find my lips and he kisses me. "I hurt you," he whispers. 

"It's fine. I mean... I don't care, I just want—" 

"I'll go real slow, okay?" 

"Yeah." 

He slides off me and reaches for something, and I hear a snap and the sound of liquid being squirted onto his hand, and then he's back. With the heel of his hand he rolls me back onto my side so I'm facing away from him again. I grab my cock again and start stroking slowly. 

Edward's fingers are slippery with lube as they slide between my ass cheeks. "Roll forward a bit," he whispers, and I pull my leg up a little so he can easily get to my ass. It makes playing with my own cock awkward, but I manage. 

His fingers slide over my ass. I'm a little tense. The haze of lust has faded with Edward's practical preparations, and I'm afraid this won't work now. 

"It's okay," he whispers. "It doesn't matter if we don't. I just wanna touch you." 

I nod. "Yeah. Okay." I try to relax, but I can't. When he puts a little pressure against my hole I will myself to relax, but it's not working. I pump my cock harder, but it's softening. My face burns. 

"I used to imagine touching you like this," Edward whispers against my shoulder. "When I was jerking off. Before last weekend, when I thought you didn't like me. When I was in the shower, I'd pretend you were sucking my dick, your lips all pink and wet. Your eyes open, looking up at me. You've got fucking beautiful eyes, Jas. I could never stop looking at them, even when you looked at me like you used to, and I thought you were freaked out by me or something, I thought you could tell that I was gay, I thought you knew I wanted you, I thought you were disgusted by it or something, but I couldn't stop staring 'cause you were so fucking gorgeous." He pants hard against my shoulder, and his hard cock is leaking pre-come on my ass cheek. "I wanted you so bad, and it hurt like fuck. I can't tell you how fucking happy I am now, Jas. This last week, knowing that you like me too, being able to kiss you and touch you, it's fucking incredible." 

My cock is hard again now, and I pump it hard as I gasp and pant and push back against his slippery fingers. 

"I really like you, Jas. So fucking much. I didn't expect that you would be so cool. You're funny, and gorgeous, and so fucking hot, Jas." 

I grunt and pump my cock and arch back against him, and he pushes with just one finger, and it slides inside me. 

"Fuck—" 

"Yeah—" 

He pushes his finger further inside and then slides it back out. "You are so fucking sexy," he grunts and rubs his cock against my hip as he fucks me with one finger. 

I can't speak. All I can do is grunt and moan and push back against his hand as he fingerfucks me. 

He pushes another one inside. It burns a little, but I keep stroking my cock, hard and slow, and I push back against his hand. 

"You okay?" he whimpers. 

"Mmm." 

"Jas?" 

"Yeah, yeah, keep going." I can barely breathe enough to speak. 

"Oh, god, Jas." He slowly pumps his fingers in and out of me, stretching me. 

I feel so full, I don't know how he's going to fit his cock in me, but I want it. "Please, now." 

"What?" 

"Oh god." I push back. "Fuck me. Now, please." 

"Fuck. You're still really tight, Jas. I don't know—" 

"Try, fucking try, please." 

"Fuck." He pulls his fingers out of me and I cry out. It's almost painful, the sudden emptiness, and I pull my legs up. 

He switches on the lamp on the table beside the bed, and I look up at him. He's dishevelled, and his face is flushed, and his lips are red and swollen. He blinks in the light. He doesn't look at me, he's fumbling with a condom wrapper, and I watch, trying to catch my breath as he tears it open and pulls out the condom. 

Only then does he look at me. He grins wide, almost manic. His eyes are wide, as if he can't believe what we're doing, and then he looks down and starts to put the condom on. 

He fumbles with it, as if he's not really sure what he's doing, but finally he gets it on his cock. He lifts his eyes to mine again and bites his lip. "Are we really doing this?" he asks. "It's fucking surreal." 

I can't help but grin at him. He's so fucking beautiful and his whole chest is flushed red and blotchy, and he looks terrified and I want him inside me so badly. "Yeah. We're fucking doing this." I grab his wrist and pull him down behind me again. 

He's breathing hard. He grabs the lube again, and I feel him behind me, covering his cock in the stuff, then he rubs his fingers over my hole again. Slides one in, and my ass is hungry for it, for more, for his cock. 

"I'm freaking out," he says as he holds his cock, lining it up, ready to push it inside me. 

"Don't." I arch my back, pushing my ass against him, trying to force him inside me. The tip of his cock slides in, just that tiny bit that was there before, and I push back more. 

He holds my hip and presses forward. And there, it burns. It hurts. My body wants to keep him out. "Jas... I don't know... maybe this isn't such a good idea." 

But I can feel his cock stretching me. So close. I pump my cock and push back and ignore the hot prickle that makes my whole body shiver. "Just a little more," I mumble. "Please, just a little more, please." 

He moans and pushes, his fingers tightening on my hip. 

I see white hot stars and cry out at the sharp, burning pain as my body gives way to the intrusion. "Stop... stop," I gasp. "Don't move, don't move." 

"Yeah." Edward's whole body is tense. I realise he has the fingers of one hand tangled in my hair, the other holds my hip, his fingers clenching and unclenching. He's breathing hard, fast. "If I move I'll come," he adds with a nervous laugh. 

I breathe out in a sharp rush of air. And then I realise that his cock is inside me. He is fucking me. We are fucking. 

I am being fucked by Edward Cullen. 

I start pulling on my cock again as it once again becomes rock hard. "You can move now," I say. I want him deeper in me, I want to feel him filling me completely. 

"Can't," he croaks. 

Okay. I can wait. I stroke my cock and wait for him to calm down, and then finally, his breathing evens out and he moves his hips the tiniest bit. 

"You okay?" he asks, for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. 

"Yeah. Just need you to move. Want you to fuck me." 

"Oh, god, Jas." He pushes against me and slips in a little more. "You're so tight. I almost came." He gets a better grip on my hip and pulls me toward him as he pushes forward. "I'm not gonna last." He pushes further inside me as I push back and his hips meet my ass. "Holy shit." 

He's filling me with his cock. I breathe hard as I push back, hungry for more movement. Then I get it, as he pulls back, slowly, and then pushes back in. The noises I make would be embarrassing if I cared, but I don't. 

"I wanna fuck you hard," Edward whimpers. 

I shake my head. I'm not ready for that yet. His cock in my ass is an ache that fills my whole body, makes it shake, throb. It feels good, but I couldn't bear any more of it. "I need to come," I squeak. "Move, but slow, okay?" 

"Yeah." He pulls slowly out, then thrusts slowly back inside me, and he keeps up that steady rhythm. I pull on my cock. 

I'm close, really close, unable to stop my deep, guttural moans, when he ups the pace a little. He begins to pump in and out of me faster, a little harder, and it's okay, it's fucking perfect, and I don't think he can help himself anyway, I think he's going to come, and with a last hard, deep, thrust, he stiffens, and he stops, and I feel his stomach muscles tense up against my back. "Oh, fucking, shit," he grunts, and the last word is long, drawn out, and I feel his cock pulsing inside me and that's all I need. My own body tenses up and hot come squirts out over my fingers as I try to contain the mess, and we shake and come and explode together in a sweaty, sticky, slimy mess. 

I breathe hard as I pull myself together. Edward is still shaking behind me, panting, moaning, his forehead pressed between my shoulder blades. "God," he says. "Oh god." He's not stopping, he's not calming down at all. 

I start to get worried, and with a grimace of discomfort I wriggle off his cock and roll over to face him. And because the lamp is still on I see the tears on his cheeks before he can roll onto his face and hide them. 

I grab him by the shoulder and attempt to push him back. "Jesus, what's wrong?" I don't understand, but I don't want him to be upset, and yet... he's crying. 

He shakes his head. "Nothing's wrong," he mumbles into the pillow, and then he sobs, and his whole body shakes with it. I stare down at him, completely confused, but my instinct is to hold him, and so I slide down beside him and wrap my arms around him. 

To my relief he pulls his face out of the pillow and buries his face in my shoulder. "That was amazing," he moans. "I'm sorry, I just... it was so amazing. I... Oh, fuck, Jas..." His body convulses again and fresh hot tears hit my skin. 

I don't know what to do, so I just hold him, and at some point we fall asleep. 


	12. Chapter 12

"Jas, wake up." 

I start awake and blink a few times. The lamp is still on and Edward is not in the bed anymore. I roll over, and there he is, standing and pulling his pyjama pants over his hips. 

I'm stuck to the sheets. "Eww." 

He looks up and grins. "I know, right? We should've cleaned up before we crashed." 

I peel myself off the towel and use the corner of it to scrub dried come off my stomach and hip. Edward tosses me the pyjama pants and t-shirt I borrowed, and I wince at the ache in my ass as I pull them on under the covers. "What time is it?" I ask. 

"A bit after four." He gathers the towel, his soiled shirt and the rest of the stuff he brought in with him, then leans over for a quick kiss. "See you in the morning." 

"Wait." I reach up, looping my arm around his neck. "Are you..." I don't know quite how to address what happened after we had sex. "Are you okay?" 

He looks at me quizzically. "Yeah." He sighs and puts his bundle on the end of the bed, then lays down beside me on top of the covers. "Are you okay?" 

I'm confused for a second, but as I shift I cringe again. "Bit... umm... sore." 

Edward bites his lip. "Are you... umm... okay about what we did?" 

I think about it. I didn't expect that we'd be doing 'it' so soon, that's for sure. The idea had been both thrilling and terrifying. But I don't regret it. Not at all. 

I need to know what was going through his mind afterward though. "Yeah. Definitely. No regrets. What about you?" 

He's still chewing on his lip, but he smiles, and then he licks his lips. "It was amazing." He wraps his arms around me and kisses me. "So good. I can't even describe how good it was." He kisses me again, his hands either side of my face. "Jas. I... You're amazing." 

Then he kisses me once more, rolls off the bed, and disappears out the door. 

I switch off the lamp and lie there, blinking into the darkness. 

* * *

I hear muted voices. Doors opening and closing. Emmett on the stairs. The guy is huge. In my sleep fuzzed brain I wonder if his cock is proportionate to the size of his body. Maybe I should ask Rose. 

The thought shocks me awake. 

Looks like a nice day outside, going by the light that creeps in through the crack between the curtains. I make no attempt to move. I'm a little afraid to, to be honest. There's a dull ache in my backside. It's almost as if I can still feel him inside me. I stretch, and cringe, and then snuggle down under the covers again. It would be so easy to go back to sleep. 

Someone knocks on the door. "You awake, Jas?" It's Edward. 

"Yeah." I clear my throat. "Come in." 

He's dressed. His hair is still damp from the shower. He leaves the door wide open and throws himself on the bed beside me. "Morning." 

He looks happy. His face is pink—freshly scrubbed—and his eyes are shiny. Sparkly. There's no trace of the emotion he showed last night. 

"Hey," I rasp, and clear my throat again. "I really need a shower." 

Edward bites his lip and presses his face into my throat. "Mmm. You smell like sweat and come. It's disgusting." 

"Fuck you," I hiss. 

He laughs. "It's hot." He presses his crotch against my hip, and even through the layers of blankets, I can feel how hard he is. Then he peels himself away. "Hurry up. I'll see you downstairs." 

* * *

The hot water soothes my sore ass. It's nice, and I could stay here a while, but he's waiting for me, and from what I hear from Rose breakfast in the Cullen house is quite an affair, so I scrub hard at the crusted come that glues the sparse hairs below my belly button together. It almost brings tears to my eyes as I scrape the substance off with my thumbnail, but then it's gone and I turn my back to the water again for some more soothing. 

What if I favour my poor ass when I sit down to breakfast? What if they all know just from looking at me? 

Oh, fuck. What if they heard us last night? 

* * *

I'm definitely paranoid when I come down the stairs, working hard to walk normally when all I want to do is wince with every step. What Edward and I did last night was entirely against the rules, and also, a complete disregard for the trust Edward's parents have placed in both of us. They could so easily tell my parents, and I'm terrified of that happening. 

The noise from the kitchen fades as I enter the room, and everyone stops what they are doing to stare at me. I'm horrified. I think they've been talking about me, I think I'm about to be accused of having sex under their roof... 

Then they all start talking and eating and scraping knives across plates and against forks and asking 'please pass the syrup'. 

I sit down beside Edward. His leg presses against mine as he leans toward me. I think he's going to whisper in my ear, or something, but nothing comes. My attention is distracted as Mrs Cullen urges me to take as many pancakes as I like because if there's anything left Emmett will eat them and she's already had to tell him to save some for me. Still conscious of Edward's face so close to my ear, I turn to see what he's doing. 

He kisses me. He tastes like butter and maple syrup and I lick my lips as he pulls away. 

Emmett makes gagging noises and Rose hits him across the chest with the back of his hand. My face burns as I flush horrifically and I can't help looking at Mrs Cullen because I'm certain that her expression will be one of disapproval. 

She's not even looking. She peers intently down at her plate and the corner of toast there, and she's trying to hide a smile, but she's failing. It's not an amused smile. It's not a nervous smile. It's a content smile, like she's happy about what Edward just did. 

It's strange. I've felt conflicted my whole life. At odds with everything. I've never expected acceptance. It's just not what I've been exposed to. 

Here, in Edward's house, surrounded by his family, it's a completely different environment. Emmett laughs and gives his brother a good natured shove. Edward shoves back and makes some comment about having to put up with him and Rose exchanging good morning kisses for years. Mrs Cullen is watching them fondly. Rose gives me a wink and I blush again. 

And Alice is staring at the place our shoulders meet with a wistful smile. It's as if she wants what we have, and I feel a surge of emotion when I realise how lucky I am. 

I dig into my breakfast and watch Edwards profile out of the corner of my eye. He looks so happy, laughing with his brother. Not even when I watched him before, laughing with his friends, with Alice, do I ever remember him looking like that. 

He's so incredibly beautiful. My chest tightens, and I can't breathe. A chunk of pancake lodges in my throat and no matter how much I swallow, it's gone dry and won't move. I drink a mouthful of the orange juice in front of me and it dislodges, then I chase more pancake around my plate as I blink away tears that make me finally begin to understand what was wrong with Edward last night. 

What I thought was love before, was nothing. Attraction. Infatuation. This, this painful lump in my chest that only grows as I listen to his voice, feel the warmth of his leg against mine... 

This is love, and I finally understand. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for a bit, though we're nowhere near done. But I wanted to leave in a place of semi-resolution (goddamn I'm hoping I managed that) while I wander off for a bit. I'm going to get Deja Vu completed, and then a wee HPDM fic I began for venis-envy's birthday way back in March.
> 
> AMMD will be back next year. Thanks for reading :)


	13. BetweenTake 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is a thinly veiled excuse to write filthy, underage porn. I'm actually supposed to be doing a million other things, however, these boys are easy, fun, and chock full of uncontrollable urges.  
> Before I get started I want to clear up a couple things. Sometimes boys don't come out to their parents. Sometimes best friends don't approve of your boyfriend (whether he knows he's your boyfriend or not). Yes the Cullen's are very accepting of Edward's sexuality. Because I'm primarily a vampfic writer, my AH incarnations are often close to their canon counterparts. And so, yes, the Cullen's are very accepting of Edward's choice in partner because they were in canon.  
> Finally, I didn't put this on hiatus FOR a year. I completed part 1 of the story, and I will begin writing part 2 in the New Year. I haven't yet decided whether I'm going to post it as part of this story or if I'm going to post it separately, so perhaps you might like to author alert me just in case.  
> Bit of a reward if you're still reading. Mention that you read the A/N (cos I know most people don't) in your review and I'll put your name in a hat and the winner can prompt me another in-between-take (or outtake from part 1) that I'll write after NaNoWriMo. And then check out vampslash dot wordpress dot com and the Halloween Fest that is now taking submissions. The Fest fics and artwork will post between 11-12pm on the 31st of October :)  
> This in-between-take was prompted by and is dedicated to JasperLuver48 who wrote the most wonderful review of this story on Indie Fic Pimp the other day. Thank you darling, you are a wonderfully supportive reader and you're on my list of the most wonderfullest readers/reviewers ever :) Sorry this doesn't exactly match the prompt you gave me, but these boys... *shakes head* They kind of ran away from me.  
> venis-envy is awesome for checking AMMD for me and she makes me want to coin a term like 'Yank-picker' or some shit. I luffs her.
> 
>  **Warning:** Unsafe underage sex. If you're young enough that you could be influenced by what you read, YOU SHOULDN'T BE READING THIS. 18+ only, please. If you're old enough to know better then you understand that this is fiction. If you're going to be offended by it, go away.

I wasn't interested in seeing this movie. I'm not paying any attention to it. Why would I, when it's dark, we're way up the back, there's only a couple of other people in the theatre and my boyfriend is on his knees in front of me with his throat around my cock.

I'm really not paying attention to the movie.

Tangling my fingers in his hair, I give it a tug. "Gonna come," I grunt, and he smiles around my dick and ups the pace.

I let out a groan when I come. His tongue presses hard against the underside and I can feel the surge from the outside as well as in. I'm thankful for the explosions and revving engines on the screen when I hit my head on the wall behind me.

Edward slides back into his seat beside me. "How's the movie?"

I stare at the screen. A car explodes into flames. "No idea." I turn my head and grin.

"Let's get out of here," he says.

I feel my brow furrow. "Don't you want...?" I reach for him.

"Yeah, but not here." He grabs my hand and I let him drag me up out of the seat.

"Where are we gonna go?" I hiss as we leave the theatre.

He smiles his lopsided smile at me and says nothing.

"I've got an idea," Edward says when we're in the car. He stares straight ahead and bites his lip. "You'll probably be pissed at me."

I shake my head. "No."

"Promise?"

"No."

He laughs, then turns the key and pulls out of the lot.

* * *

I stare up at the neon sign in horror. I look back at the office. Behind venetian blinds I see Edward as he speaks to the manager. He looks completely confident as he opens his wallet and passes something that looks suspiciously like a credit card over the counter.

I wipe my palms on my jeans.

Edward takes the offered key, shakes the guys hand, then he practically skips out the door. He has a huge smile on his face as he takes long strides back to the car.

"I can't believe you just did that," I hiss as he shuts the door behind him and starts the car.

"I can't believe you agreed to it," he replies, then after pulling the car up outside the room with a number on the door that matches the key he passes me, he turns off the engine and turns to me. "Are you sure this is okay?"

I nod. Of course it's okay. Alone, just him and me, no reason to be quiet, no fear that someone may suspect and barge in, no open door policy and no guest room...

We have two hours alone in a motel, and we are going to fuck our brains out.

Or he's going to fuck my brains out. It'll be the second time ever. We managed a quick reciprocal hand-job on Wednesday after school, and a bit of phone sex late last night, but that was all until the blow-job in the theatre. It's been torture. Sure, I couldn't sit down for two days without being reminded that I'd had sex with Edward Cullen last Saturday night, but that only made it worse.

I want more. I want it all the time. I can't stop thinking about fucking. About  _Edward_ fucking  _me_.

I stare at the bed when we get inside the room. We both know what's going to happen here and I want it, but I feel awkward. Nervous. It just happened last time. We didn't plan on having sex.

At least I didn't.

I hear Edward's shoes on the carpet behind me, and I lean into him when his arms slip around my waist, and stretch my neck for a kiss. Then I glance back down at the bed. The coverlet is modern and new-looking. Clean looking. This doesn't feel as seedy as I expected it would.

"I want you so much," Edward whispers in my ear.

I press back against the hard cock that digs into my hip and smile. "I can tell."

"Please," he whispers.

"Yeah." I turn around.

Edward kisses me hard. His teeth scrape my lip and I wince but it's forgotten quickly as I struggle to stay on my feet when he shoves me backward. My hip bangs against the bedside table and I think it's going to bruise. Something falls off the table, but I don't care. Rough, forceful Edward is hot.

I find myself sitting on the unsteady cabinet while the phone book bunches against the wall behind my ass, with Edward's hands up my shirt and his mouth suctioned to my neck.

"Don't leave a mark," I beg, but he doesn't stop and I can't find the will to make him. Together with his fingers teasing my nipples and his leg between mine I'm weak. Utterly without will power. So I try something else. "I wanna be able to kiss you," I whimper. "When you fuck me."

He pulls back. My neck throbs. His eyes are dark and hooded and his lips are swollen and red. He nods. "Yeah." Stepping back, he pulls me up by the hand and pushes me down on the bed. "Jas," he breathes, and he has that look on his face again, the one he gets sometimes when we're alone and quiet and when the kissing doesn't quickly turn to a frantic need to get off. The look he gets on his face after I made him come.

I tear my eyes away from his face and unbutton my jeans. I feel him watching as I kick them off, and yeah, when I lift my eyes he's staring. "What?" I ask, then pull my shirt off over my head. He doesn't answer, just keeps staring. So I stretch and roll onto my side, and while I feel just a little foolish I know at the same time that he's staring at my ass as I turn away from him.

Edward starts tearing his clothes off. I smile to myself when his belt rattles as it hits the floor. Soft thuds herald the loss of the rest of his clothing, and I close my eyes as the bed dips beneath his weight.

He grabs my hip as he slides his cock between the cheeks of my ass. "We can do whatever we want here," he whispers, then he licks my neck. "You're so fucking sexy, Jas."

"So what do you want to do?" I ask. I imagine there's a hot, sexy, breathy quality to my voice and I still feel silly, but I love the way he reacts to it.

"I wanna fuck you." He punctuates his statement with a thrust of his hips that brings the head of his cock to my hole and I squeak, but he pulls away and turns me onto my back. I stare up at him, surprised. "Thought you wanted it face to face," he says.

I do. I want to see the look on his face while he's inside me. I want to feel his weight on me. So I take his hand and lift my knees off the bed and guide his hand down the inside of my thigh. "Did you bring lube?"

He nods and slides off the bed, returning in a moment with a small tube and a foil square.

"Do we have to?" I ask, referring to the condom. We haven't talked about it, but neither of us have ever been with anyone else and I just don't understand why he bothers.

"My dad would kill me," is all the answer he gives, and I leave it, because then his slick fingers are circling my hole and I get lost in the sensation and what his fingers  _there_ do to my mind.

"Are you okay?" he whispers close to my ear. I open my eyes and reach up for him, pulling him into a kiss, but he pulls away. "I mean... did you want...? Fuck."

I take his wrist in my hand and put pressure on it. He understands what I want and slides one finger inside me.

"That's what I want," I grunt as I move my hips, trying to get him deeper.

"Jesus." With his free hand he palms his cock. A drop of pre-come glistens at the tip. "I didn't know if maybe you wanted to... If you wanted to fuck  _me_." He slides another finger inside me.

I want his cock in my mouth, so I squiggle down until I'm eye to eye with it. Then I lift myself up and lick away the sweetness. "Is that what  _you_ want?" Opening my mouth I let him push his cock between my lips.

"Fuck," he spits. He leans over me and twists his fingers deeper into my ass. "I dunno," he pants, then pulls his cock almost all the way out of my mouth before sliding it in again. "I thought I should... fuck... give you the option."

Holding his cock at the base I pull my mouth off it. I open my mouth, about to say something like 'hell yeah', because the thought of it is fucking hot—but then I realise he's biting his lip. He looks nervous.

And he's still got his fingers deep in my ass.

"Maybe? One day? I... I can't think right now." I thrust my hips again. "Fuck  _me_ , please?"

Edward nods and pulls his fingers out of me. The sudden emptiness is such a new sensation that I cry out and dig my fingers into his hip.

A look of concern furrows his brow. "Sorry. God, sorry, Jas. Did I—"

I shake my head and take the foil square from his fingers where it's frozen in midair. "I'm fine. Just want you back inside me." I tear the packet open and as I flip the slimy piece of rubber over, then over again trying to find the right way up, it's my turn to have shaking hands.

I blow a puff of air at the thing so I can see which way it needs to go, then I place it over the tip of his cock and take a deep breath.

He stares down at me, one hand on my knee, the other on my shoulder, and he chews his lip. He moans as I roll the condom down over the length of his cock. "Jas," he breathes, his fingers digging hard into my flesh. "Fucking..."

I smile as he grits his teeth and tries not to come.

"Fuck, Jas..."

I stop and let go, instead reaching for his hands so I can pull him down on top of me. He hovers there, holding himself up above me. "I... Jas—"

I lift my head and kiss him. I want to be kissing him when he slides inside me. I arch up and rub my cock against his.

Edward jerks and grunts. "Jas, fuck," he squeaks, and his cock twitches and leaps against mine.

I drop quickly back down to the bed. I'm too late. Edward is tense all over, his eyes shut tight, his back arched as he fills the condom that didn't get anywhere near my ass. I can't help feeling disappointed, but instead of being angry, I laugh. It's just a short, sharp snort of laughter, but its enough. When he stops coming he collapses sideways and shoots me a hurt look before he closes his eyes and buries his face in the blankets.

I move immediately. "It's okay," I insist, leaning on his shoulder to make him look at me. "I don't care." I do care. I'm still hard as a rock and want the dirty, filthy, we're-not-supposed-to-be-doing-this feeling that I got when we had sex before.

Edward looks up at me. Then he moves, pushing me off him and leaping off the bed, pulling the condom off his dick as he heads for the bathroom.

* * *

I wait until I hear the shower running, then I open the bathroom door. "Is it okay if I come in?"

He doesn’t answer at first. Then he slumps against the shower wall with a thump. "Yeah."

I slip into the shower. He's still slumped against the wall, and his eyes are open, but he won't look at me.

"Sorry," I whisper as I press myself against his chest. "You'll be ready to go again in a minute."

"I only brought one condom," he whines, and then he laughs. "You don't know how hot you are. You drive me crazy."

I cant think of anything to say, so I keep quiet and drop to my knees.

Edward's cock tastes faintly of rubber. I ignore it and keep licking and sucking him until he's hard again.

His fingers thread through my hair and he grips tight. I really do want him to fuck me, so I ignore his groan when I stand up. I turn away from him and look back over my shoulder. "Please," I whisper.

He shakes his head. "We can't."

"Yeah we can."

He frowns. "No." He brings himself close to me anyway.

Arching back against him, I rub my ass against his cock. It feels good, and I want more, so I reach back and grasp his hips and grind myself back on his cock, lifting up onto my toes and sliding down his body, trying to impale myself on his dick.

Edward groans. "Fuck, Jasper," he says, then he moves, giving me a shove so I have to let go of him and put my hands out to save myself.

I rest my cheek on the cold shower wall and sigh, disappointed, embarrassed, but then there is a slippery, blunt nudge between my ass cheeks as Edward holds his cock there.

He pushes in.

I'm prepared for the pain this time, and I grit my teeth and breathe though the burn. He gets halfway in before he stops, leaning heavily against my back, and our breathing is identical, heavy and measured and completely in sync.

"Oh god, Jas. We can't do this."

I shake my head. "Please." It's all I can get out.

He pulls back, real slow, and I whimper, but he pushes back inside again, going deeper. Moaning, he pulls out and thrusts back in again, faster this time, and with a series of quick thrusts he's all the way inside me. "Too good, Jas. Fuck, too fucking good."

My face is hot and I don't know if it's the shower or the fact that Edward has his cock in my ass again. The dull ache is almost overshadowed with the crazy sensation of being so full of him I feel like I might explode. It's even better without a condom, so much more sensation with every thrust. Just the thought of how much closer we are than last time has me clenching up hard in my guts and in my ass.

Edward grunts and jerks, then I feel his cock moving, twitching, pumping inside me and I realise he's coming only when everything gets warmer and slicker and he starts cursing and swearing and spasming against my back.

He goes still. With his face pressed against my shoulder he groans. "I'm sorry. Oh my god. Fuck. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay." All I can think about is how hard my dick is and how much I want—need—to come.

He shakes his head and then reaches in front of me and wraps his fingers around my cock. "I'm gonna make you come."

So I splay my fingers against the shower wall and hold on, and as he strokes I feel his dick soften and slip out of me. It feels wet and messy but the fact that he came inside me is fucking hot and when I think about it I feel the muscles in my stomach tighten again. Come oozes out of my backside. "Yuck," I whisper.

"Messy, huh?"

I nod weakly. "Yeah, but fucking hot."

"It felt so much better." He continues to stroke my cock with his right hand while his left slides over the curve of my ass. "Did it feel better for you?"

"Oh yeah." I nod again. "Please."

His fingers slip between the cheeks of my ass and over my hole. It's oversensitive, and I shiver, but I notice how slippery it feels.

"Fuck," he breathes, and his fist tightens on my cock. "Fuck." Then he slips a finger inside my wet, stretched hole.

I moan. Water pours into my mouth and I close it, letting the water spill out over my lips and down my neck and chest.

His finger slides out and two slide back in. He slowly fucks me with his fingers while he jerks me off.

I lose all sense of self. All I am is my cock and my ass and Edward's hands and fingers. I don't care what I look like or what I sound like. I don't care about coming, I never want it to stop.

"So hot, Jas. So fucking sexy. Come. I wanna feel you come. I want you to come with my fingers in you."

Everything tightens, it's hot and fast and so tight I feel as if I'm about to break. Someone's screaming, I can hear it, long, deep, drawn out, and then finally, finally...

"Oh my fucking god, Jas. Oh my fucking god."

Edward's voice sounds very far away, but his breath cools my wet skin. The sound of the water is deafening. I'm coming harder than I've ever come in my life, I'm sure of it.

* * *

Edward's arms are around my waist. I try to speak, but I can't think of anything to say.

"You okay?" he asks.

I think about it. Am I okay? Yes. More than okay. I think I'm more relaxed than I've ever been in my entire life. I laugh, because it's funny. I feel a little spaced, like I'm drunk. It's a very long way to the floor, and my legs are unsteady. "I love you," I say, because it feels like the right thing, and because it's true. I laugh again, because I wasn't going to say it first.

Edward says nothing, but his breath goes shaky. Then he reaches for the soap. "Come on. Let's get clean. We have to go soon or you'll break your curfew."

* * *

The drive home is quiet. I think I fall asleep for some of it, I'm not sure, but it seems to pass quickly. Edward is quiet, but so am I. I'm a little afraid that maybe I shouldn't have said what I did, but it's too late now. I'm not going to bring it up just to take it back.

Dad is still up when I get in the house.

"Looks like you had fun," he says and winks at me.

I freeze.

Dad laughs and turns his head as if to show me his throat.

My jaw drops when I remember Edward sucking hard on my neck.

My dad grins. "If you keep it covered I won't tell your mom."

I mumble my thanks and hurry up the stairs to the bathroom. Sure enough, when I look in the mirror, there's an obvious mark on my neck. It's large and purple and tender when I press my finger against it. I hope it fades quickly.


	14. BetweenTake 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sapphirescribe and venis-envy talked me out of scrapping this bit, and I trust them. Underage sex, angst, and teenage emo-ness within. You've been warned. If you're under 18 you shouldn't be reading this.  
> I'm starting to get the itch that suggests I might start writing Part 2 of AMMD soon. I've bought a bloody great notebook for the purpose (everything is written by hand these days), and I've planned each scene of the first chapter. The entire arc that is Part 2 has been spreadsheeted for quite some time. There's a new character coming in for Part 2. I'm not going to tell you who it is, but I will let you guess. If you know my writing you might not be surprised when he makes his first appearance.  
> Thanks to everyone who reads, reviews, alerts, etc. This was beaten into submission by venis-envy (chickens lay eggs). I get to meet her in a couple months. Woohoo!

Rose was surprised when I told her I wasn't going to the Cullen's this morning. After last night I wasn't sure Edward wanted me there, so I texted him, asking if he did. 

He said, 'Only if you want to.' 

I couldn't after that. 

I'm up to my wrists in hot water, washing the dinner dishes. It gives me an excuse not to speak to my parents, and I'm not ready to go up to my room. It's only been a couple of weeks, but texting and talking to Edward in the evenings is already a habit and I won't know what else to do once I'm upstairs. 

I fish around in the sink and pull out Mom's favourite breadknife. It's razor-sharp and makes my fingers tingle just handling it. I place it in the rack, sharp-end-down, and dip my hand into the sink again. 

My eyes settle on the knife every time I put something else in the rack. How easy it would be to catch myself on it. What would I do if that happened? 

Would I care? 

I decide that I would. The damage is done, though. My whole hand tingles now, as if I've already cut it. I see visions of screams and blood and dishtowels soaked with red. 

Would Edward care if I was gone? Would he tell people he cared about me, or would I just be that guy he fucked who never came back to school again? 

I swallow the lump in my throat and pull the plug. Then I head for the stairs, calling out to my parents that I'm going up to bed. 

~v~ 

I lie awake until the early hours of the morning, and I get up late. When I finally go downstairs, Rose is home already, and Emmett is with her. They both look at me with pity in their eyes and I know that they know. I walk back out of the room. 

Rose follows me upstairs and stands in my bedroom doorway. "Sorry, Jas," she says, giving me those eyes again. 

"I'm fine." I pick up a random text book from the floor and pretend to study. 

"Em feels bad," she continues. "He wants to do something." 

I shrug and stare at the page. The text dances in front of my eyes and I don't even know what subject it is. 

"Get your gear. We're going hiking." 

I look up at my sister sharply. " _You're_ going hiking?" 

Rose laughs. "Apparently. Come on. It'll get your mind off it." 

~v~ 

After an hour or so of listening to Rose complain, we break through the trees into a clearing. It's a field—a meadow—full of lush grass and flowers. I'm exhausted, so I don't stop to appreciate the beauty of it. 

Instead, I flop to the ground and pull out my water bottle. 

The voices and footsteps fade away. I look behind me, but Rose and Emmett have disappeared. 

"Oh, nice," I say out loud, jumping to the obvious conclusion. If they wanted to make out in the woods, they might as well have come without me. "Should've let me stay home." I lie down in the long grass and I'm almost asleep when I hear them returning. 

I roll over and push myself up to my knees, not wanting Emmett to trip over me, because the guy is huge. They're not there, and I realise that the noise is coming from behind me. 

I look. 

Edward and Alice are coming across the meadow. 

My immediate instinct is to drop back down and hide, but Alice's eyes are quick and a wide smile spreads over her face as she sees me. She starts running. 

I fall back into the long grass. Alice is heading straight for me, but I look past her, to Edward. He's watching Alice in confusion, but he hasn't seen me yet. 

"Hi, Jasper. Bye, Jasper," Alice sings as she blurs past. 

Edward's eyes go wide and his mouth falls open when he sees me. He looks up at Alice, cups his hands around his mouth and calls out to her. "Bitch!" 

He looks at me again, and he grins. 

~v~ 

We have almost identical text messages on our phones, mine from Rose, his from Alice. Edward has 'You were pathetic last night. Work it out!' and I have 'Edward was pathetic last night. Sort it out!' 

We can talk about being tricked into coming here, we can both swear that our own sister is the evilest, but we don't talk about _why_ we're here. Why I didn't go to the Cullen's last night, and why he didn't call me. 

We can't even look each other in the eye. 

After long awkward moments of silence as we each strip seed heads from grass stalks, we both speak at once. 

"My dad saw the mark—" 

"I missed you—" 

We stop and grin at each other. "You go," I say. 

"I missed talking to you last night." He reaches for me. 

I flinch back until I realise he's just pulling at the collar of my shirt. The mark is still there, I know, and this morning it was a sickening yellow colour. 

"Sorry," he says, and lets go of my shirt. 

"It's fine. Dad thinks it was a girl." 

"Right." Edward looks back down to the stripped grass stalk in his fingers. He twirls it around. "I'm gonna kill Alice." 

He doesn't want to be here with me. I was so stupid to say what I did. I was so sure he felt the same and I was wrong. "Am I just a fuck to you?" I blurt out and tears begin prickling behind my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I feel so stupid for thinking this was real. 

He looks up sharply. " _No_ ," he says, his brows drawn together. He looks... confused. "No, Jas." 

I want to ask him why he didn't say it back then, but I don't. Instead I stare down at my hands. I'm shaking, angry, embarrassed. I think about getting up and walking home; a big, dramatic gesture. I see myself in my mind, bolting to my feet, walking off in the direction I came, and Edward calling out to me, following, begging me to stay with him. 

I'm so lost in my imaginings that I start when he touches the back of my hand with his fingertips. I look up. 

Edward is frowning. "Is that why you didn't want to come yesterday? If you don't want to have sex, I don't care." He speaks in a rush. "And I'm sorry about the other night. It's just..." His face is bright red and his eyes are darting everywhere. He can't even look at me. "You're too fucking hot, Jas." He closes his eyes and turns away, biting his lip, hard. "I... I didn't do it on purpose. I tried so hard to—" 

The words stick in his throat. He hunches over and his shoulder shake. "Oh fuck," he moans, and then tears squeeze out of his scrunched up eyes and roll down his cheeks. 

I can only stare, frozen, as he turns his whole body away from me and wipes at his face. 

I don't know what to do. I feel like I should say something to comfort him but I don't know what. Should I touch him? I can't think of anything to say, so I tentatively reach out and put my hand on his shoulder. "Hey," I say. 

He shivers, and I imagine his body releases a bit of tension. He turns his head, enough so that I can see the sun glinting off his eyelashes. They're wet, and his face is red and blotchy. 

He's not crying anymore, but his breathing is heavy and laboured. 

"Are you okay?" I try. 

He lets out a huff of laughter and shakes his head. 

"What's wrong?" Lame, Jasper. 

He turns his head back to me and looks at me with bloodshot, red-rimmed eyes. Then he laughs. "You wanted it, right?" 

I stare at him for a while. "What? Sex?" 

He nods. 

I feel my face go red. "Well... Yeah." 

"Then why are you acting like this is my fault?" Another mirthless laugh, and he pushes himself to his feet and takes a few steps away, turning, stepping backward. His face twists into an expression of anger. "You were fucking begging for it, Hale. You take a look at yourself before you start making out that I'm just looking to get off, okay?" He turns away again, shoves his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans, hangs his head, and starts walking away. 

I'm in shock. "What the fuck?" I whisper as I sit in the grass and watch him get farther away. He reaches the tree line before I move. 

Before I'm on my feet, my mind goes over the last few minutes in my head again. One moment he's crying, the next he's being mean. I have no fucking idea what just happened but I don't buy that he doesn't care after he cried like that. I think he's scared. 

I run to catch up with him. There's no way he doesn't hear me as I crash through the trees, but he gives no indication that he's going to stop or even run, he just keeps slouching through the undergrowth. 

Then he stops. I slow to a walk. He doesn't turn, but he lifts his hand and wipes his face again. 

I come around in front of him. He won't meet my eyes, and he bites his lip as he stares at the closest tree as if he hates it. 

We stand in silence for long moments. He chews his lip and breathes, and I try to think of something to say. 

"You _know_ I wasn't just trying to get off." I'm not gonna say it, not again. I almost choke just alluding to it. But fuck—if he doesn't want to be with me because of what I said, fucked if I'm going to let him imply that _I'm_ the one who just wants sex. 

He kicks at the fallen leaves at his feet. "No I don't." 

"Fuck." I spit the word as I clench my fists, driving my fingernails into my palms. The pain helps a little, serving to dull the clenching of my heart. I don't want to say it. Not again. Why couldn't he just leave it? Ignore the fact that I ever said it? "In the shower, Edward," I say between clenched teeth. "What I said in the shower." 

He looks up. His eyes are narrowed and he stares at me for a very long time. 

I stare back. 

He swallows and clears his throat. "What did you say?" 

My pulse pounds in my ears and my palms are slick. I shake my head because I can't say it, not again. I can't leave myself open like that and I can't give him an excuse to walk away. 

He sneers at me. "See?" He shakes his head. "It was bullshit. I made you come and you didn't mean it. Fuck." He kicks at the ground and then steps away again. 

"I did." 

The words are out before I can think, but he keeps walking. 

"Edward, wait. I meant what I said." 

He hesitates for a moment, his hand on a tree trunk, still facing away as if he's waiting for something. 

I take a step toward him. 

He walks away again. 

"Why are you being such an asshole?" I call out. "I didn't mean to say it, okay? I'm sorry. Look, if you just want to fuck..." My voice sticks in my throat. "It's fine. I'm fine. I won't push for more, I just—" 

He stops and turns around. "Of course you think that. Fuck you, Jasper. I couldn't help it. I'm sorry, okay?" 

I throw my hands in the air. "What the fuck are you talking about?" 

"Get off my case—" 

"I'm not on it—" 

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" 

I stare at him in shock as I wonder what the hell is happening. This time last week I was floating, and now it might all be over. 

Suddenly I can't breathe. I don't want this to be over. Not yet. It's barely begun. Inside my head I'm screaming those three words, but they fucked everything up so badly that I can't let them out again. I want to say it, I want to beg. In my head I say the words— _but I love you_ —and beg him not to break up with me. 

I can only gape at him in horror at what is happening. 

Edward takes a few deep breaths, sets his jaw, lifts his chin and pulls himself up to his full height. "Just so you know," he says, "I didn't just want sex. I'm not like that. That first night, in the guest bedroom? You said no, and I stopped." He lifts his eyes to the branches above and sighs. Then he laughs again, but nothing's funny. "I thought you were just gonna give me shit for coming too soon. But you think I'm just with you for sex? Fuck you." 

"No I don't." 

Edward flinches. "You just said—" 

"Only because you didn't say it back." 

He freezes. Then slowly, he turns his face away from me and looks at me from the corner of his eye. 

Here it comes. This is it. He's going to tell me to fuck off because he doesn't need some lovesick sap hanging around, and why did I say it? 

I was certain he felt the same way. 

When he speaks, I have to strain my ears to hear him. "I didn't think you meant it." 

I want to tell him that I didn't in the hope that this will all go away and we can go back to how it was before, but I can't make myself speak. 

"Did you?" 

I still can't say a word. 

"Did you mean it, Jas?" His voice is softer now, his eyes are wide. He takes a step toward me. His hand comes out and wraps around my wrist tightly, as if he thinks I'm going to run away. "Did you?" he asks again. 

"I..." I try so hard to say yes now. His eyes are so intense. Even though they're still red, the green of his iris is still startling. 

"I made you come really hard," he says as he leans closer. "I thought you said it because of that. I wanted to say it back but I was afraid you only said it because I got you off." 

All the air in my lungs rushes out of me and I can't get enough to replace it. 

"Did you mean it?" 

All I can do is nod. 

Edward's smile is so beautiful it makes me feel lightheaded. I don't get a chance to breathe because then he's kissing me, his hand at the back of my neck, holding me tightly. 

He wanted to say it back. 

I smile, and then laugh into the kiss. 

My head spins. What seems like a moment ago, Edward was yelling at me, and now he's pushing me back against a tree and he has his hand up my shirt. He's kissing me like he'll never have the chance again. 

"Wait," I manage to get out as he comes up for air. "How far did they go? They could be watching us." 

"Fuck." Edward pulls back, turns around, and scans the forest. Then he grabs my hand and pulls me toward the meadow. 

He pushes me back down into the grass. "We'll hear them," he says, as he lies down on his side and pats the ground next to him. 

I lie down. "What are we doing?" I ask. 

He bites his lip. "Making up for lost time? I missed you last night." 

It could have been like last weekend. I could have slept in the guest bedroom and he could have sneaked in when everyone was asleep and we could have had sex. I get hard just thinking about it. 

As if he knows, he moves closer, slips his thigh between my legs and he kisses me again, rolling over me so I can feel his weight pressing down. He pushes his thigh against my cock and I can't help but shift against him, underneath him. 

Too fast, perhaps it's the relief, I feel myself spiraling upward. I don't relish the hike out of the forest if I come like this. I push him off me, panting, and I stare up at the sky. 

"Sorry," he says, and rolls away. 

I find his hand, and I curl my fingers into it. "Don't wanna come in my jeans," I say to the sky. 

Edward chuckles. "Want me to suck you off?" 

I grin. "Yes please." 

We both laugh—giggle—as he moves down my body and gets onto his hands and knees between my thighs. He looks up at me as he opens my jeans. 

His face is still blotched, his eyes still a little pink, but he's smiling. He looks happy. I want to tell him I'm sorry, but I'm afraid to bring it up again. 

Instead, I tip my head back and close my eyes as his wet lips slide down over me. 

The head of my cock hits the back of his throat and, involuntarily, I jerk up off the ground. 

He chokes and pulls off. When I look down, his eyes are watering again, but he grins and presses down on my hips with his hands then sucks me into his mouth again. 

He goes slower this time. I put my hands behind my head and relax as he slowly licks and sucks me. 

Then he takes one hand off me. I look, and he's rubbing over the front of his jeans. His eyes are closed, and as he sucks me and rubs himself he moans. 

I let out a moan of my own in response, and his eyes open. He sees me watching him, smiles around my dick, and then he levers open the button of his jeans, lowers the zip, and pulls out his cock. 

I rise up on my elbows so I can watch him touching himself. The head of his cock is red and wet with pre-come. My mouth waters. 

"Come here," I whisper. "Turn around." 

His eyes go wide as he realises what I'm asking, but then he moves, letting my cock slip from between his lips and twisting so his hips are level with my head. 

Then he just sits there, looking awkward. 

I lie back down in the grass and reach out for him, wrapping one hand around the base of his cock and guiding him with the other on his hip. He straddles my face and I suck his cock into my mouth. 

"Fuck, Jas," he moans, then he leans forward and puts my cock back in his mouth. 

It's hard to concentrate on what I'm doing to him because of what he's doing to me. The seam of his jeans rasps on my chin and I reach up and shove my hands down the back of his jeans in an effort to loosen them, but he takes it as an invitation to thrust. He forces his cock into my throat so hard and fast that I can't breathe and my eyes start to water. It's hot. I get off on the way he fucks my face, stabbing his cock into my throat. He's sucking as good as he gets. Saliva drips down over my balls. As he sucks, he peels my jeans down my legs, bunching them at the ankles, and he wraps his arms around my thighs and pulls them apart. I can feel the sun on my inner thighs, can feel the breeze on my balls. 

He collects spit on his fingers and rubs clumsily over my hole as he fucks my face and sucks my cock. I arch up to his fingers, wanting them inside me. 

Begging for it, just like he said. 

The thought makes me still my hips, but too late, because Edward's already slipped a finger inside me. 

I moan around his cock. 

The fingers of his other hand continue to massage around my hole, even as he thrusts his finger in and out of me. I try to keep still, try not to act too hungry for it, but I can't. It's impossible. My legs shake with the effort I expend trying not to writhe underneath him. 

He slips another finger inside me. He's using his other hand this time, and it feels as if he's holding me open. The movement of his hips falter and he pulls off my cock for a split second—as if he's taking a closer look. Then he's back and he takes my cock to the root, and he stretches me wide open and, as he does, he slowly pushes his cock deep into my throat and begins to thrust again steadily. 

I want him to fuck me. I moan and try to turn my head away to speak, but he keeps my cock in his mouth. I'm going to come, but I want to come with his cock in my ass. 

I grunt and fight the way my balls tighten up, but I can't stop it and all I can do is arch up underneath him and let out a muffled cry as I start to shoot. 

He moans as I fill his mouth and he teases around my twitching rim with the fingers that were only seconds before inside me. Pressing, circling, dipping inside to fight against my spasming muscles until I'm crying out through a mouthful of cock. 

Finally, the shudders fade. I turn my head away and his cock slips out of my mouth as I gasp for air. 

I vaguely register him moving, turning around, then he's beside me, kissing me, pulling my hand to his wet cock, wrapping his fingers around it, making me stroke him. "So fucking hot when you come, Jas," he murmurs. 

"Fuck me," I manage to whisper against his lips. I don't care now if I look like I'm begging for it. I want him inside me, filling me up. "Fuck me." 

But he only laughs and squeezes my hand, his cock. 

I kick at my boots, my jeans, and manage to get one leg free. I spread my legs farther and try to pull him onto me, tugging at his hip and his cock. "God, please, Edward. Fuck me." 

He laughs again. "Didn't bring anything. Just get me off, baby, please." 

"Want you to fill me up," I say as I try to get him between my legs. 

"No," he groans, and his hand over mine starts to speed up. "Gonna come." He stiffens, whimpers, and then he paints my thigh with hot stripes. He lets go of my hand, but I keep stroking him through his orgasm, until he shudders and grabs my wrist and pulls my hand off him. Collapsing beside me, he lays his head on my shoulder and closes his eyes. 

"Wanted you to fuck me," I murmur before I think to shut myself up. 

"Wanted to." 

"Then why didn't you?" 

He lifts his head and grins. "I came for a hike with Alice. I didn't think to pack condoms." 

I stick my tongue out at him. "We didn't use one the other night." 

"We should have. Anyway, no lube, either." 

"Oh." I sit up and reach for my briefs and my jeans, untangle them, and wrestle them back on. 

Edward manages to get his jeans done up while lying on the ground. "Jas," he says, when he's done. 

I look down. He's chewing on his lip again. "Yeah?" 

"Are we okay?" 

"Yeah?" 

Edward licks his lips and then presses them together, hard. "Why didn't you come with Rose yesterday?" 

I can feel my face burning. "I didn't think you wanted me there. After what I said—" 

"I thought you didn't want to come because of me. Because I...couldn't wait for you." His face flushes red and he stares at a spot far left of my face. 

"I don't care about that," I tell him. I don't. It could have so easily been me. How can I take it as anything but a compliment? "I really don't care about that." 

His breath goes shaky and his eyes start to go red around the edges again. He closes them, but not before I see the shine on the surface. "You're so fucking hot, Jas," he whispers, and then scrunches his eyes shut tight. 

I lie down with him and tuck myself into his armpit. 

His breath rushes out of him and his whole body relaxes. "So we're good?" 

I smile to myself. "Yeah, we're good." The words are right there, right on the tip of my tongue, and I open my mouth. "Edward?" I get up on my elbow and look down at him. 

He smiles, waiting. 

"I..." Nothing else comes out. I stare into his eyes, and nothing comes out. "Oh shit." He's fucking beautiful and I don't know why it won't come out. 

Edward's smile stretches wide. "Yeah. Me too." 

I make a noise in the back of my throat that should embarrass me, but it doesn't. Then I press my face into his shirt, and I shake with laughter as his arms wrap around me and hold me tight. 

~v~ 

We find the Cullen's Volvo at the edge of the forest, but there's no sign of Emmett's Jeep or any of our siblings. Edward has the keys, and he drives me home. 

Parked in the driveway of my house, I really want to kiss him goodbye, and it kills me that I can't. 

"See you tomorrow," I say with my hand on the door latch. 

"I'll call you tonight." 

"You'd better." I grin. Suddenly I can't wait for bedtime. 


	15. 2x00

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2.  
> I decided to tack part 2 onto part 1 and the betweentakes. It's all the one story, really, even though this part could easily be self contained and posted separately, it pretty much will be necessary to have read part one and the betweentakes, so here it is, all one story :)  
> This instalment is sort of a Chapter 0, if you like. It's not really a prologue, but it's not really a Chapter 1, either, so I'm calling it 0. Note the numbering system up top there (2x00), so this is Chapter 0 of Part 2. Hope that makes sense. Chapter 1 will be 2x01, Chapter 2 will be 2x02 and so on.  
> Part 2 is outlined, but I'll be posting as I write, so don't expect a strict posting schedule. I just don't work like that. Right now I have only up to 2x01 written.  
> venis-envy totally serves as pre-reader AND beta on this now. She also unkiwifies shit that needs unkiwifying. She's awesome.

He looks so pleased with himself that I can't help smiling up at him even as I struggle to catch my breath.

He pulls out, still grinning, then thrusts hard back into me and I grunt. He slides sideways on my come, snorts, then he bites his tongue and opens his eyes wide. "Shh," he says, as if it was me who made the noise.

Edward Cullen is fucking me, and I'm fucking ecstatic.

"Come," I whisper. He's got me bent in half, his arms underneath my knees. My jizz is smeared between us, but he doesn't seem to care, as he comes down for a kiss with every slow, forceful thrust.

"I will," he whispers in my ear. "Soon. I'm having too much fun to stop now." Then he pulls back and looks down at me. "Are you okay?"

I nod, but really, I just want him to pound into me hard and fast until he comes.

As if he knows, he sits up a bit, unfolds me a little, grabbing my ankles, and then he thrusts.

"Oh, that's good," I moan. My arms are out to the sides, my hands clinging to the sheets, and I'm completely at his mercy. All I can do is hold my ass up off the mattress as he holds my legs apart and thrusts in and out of me.

"Faster," I whisper.

He moves faster, and he starts to give a little grunt on every thrust.

"Harder."

He slams into me so hard the headboard hits the wall.

We both freeze. "Fuck," he says. He wraps his arms around my thighs, pulls them into his chest, and he starts moving only his hips. Hard. Fast. Not as deep as I'd like, but it seems to be getting the job done because he starts whimpering and his movements become erratic.

"Gonna come," he says.

"Come, baby. Fill me up."

Edward's eyes roll back into his head and he freezes, pulling my legs tighter against his chest, and then he lets out a strangled gasp. I feel his stomach muscles tighten up hard against my ass cheeks, and then he moans and begins to move again, gentle thrusts as he milks himself of the last drops of his come.

He slips his hand between us, holds onto the condom, and pulls out. I moan in loss as he lowers my legs to the bed.

"You okay?"

I nod. "Don't like that bit."

He pulls the rubber off, wraps it in a tissue, and leaves the little bundle on the bedside table. "What bit?"

My face heats. "When you pull out."

Edward smiles and bites his lip. "You like my cock in you."

I bury my face in his shoulder. "Duh."

He chuckles and shifts, then he's back with a wet washcloth. It's cold, and I squirm as he washes my stomach clean.

Then he climbs off the bed.

"Are you going?"

He looks uncertain. "I should."

My mood deflates. We get very little time alone—truly alone—and I was hoping we would fall asleep together again.

I'm not going to say anything. I'm certainly not going to tell him that I want to cuddle—even though it's true.

He kneels on the floor, so his head is level with mine on the pillow. He leans forward and kisses me. "I love you," he whispers against my lips, and then he drops his eyes as he pulls back.

I can't stop grinning. "Love you too," I say, just as quietly, and I, too, can't bear to meet his eyes.

He bundles up all the stuff he brought with him to contain the mess, then gives me another quick kiss before he disappears out the door of the Cullen's guest bedroom.

~v~

"I hate sneaking around."

"Pfft." I sit down on Edward's bed, I slip my arm around his waist and lay my head on his shoulder. "You're the one who sneaks in at night."

"I don't mean that." He turns his head and breathes warm air into my hair. "At school, pretending it's nothing, you know? I can't wait until tomorrow to see you, but I can't touch you. I can't kiss you. It sucks."

"Yeah."

Rose pokes her head in through Edward's open bedroom door. "Fifteen minutes, Jas." Then she's gone.

"Yeah," I repeat. "It sucks." I turn my own head and find Edward's lips. We kiss slow, as if we have all the time in the world, but we can't risk getting carried away right now. Not when I have to go home.

"You'll tell Emmett?" I ask.

Edward purses his lips. He hates lying to his brother, and I understand that, I do, but there's no other way. He nods.

"Cool. I'll tell Rosalie on the way home."

We kiss again, and we keep kissing until Rose pokes her head in again to tell me it's time to go. "Meet you at the car," she says, then she's gone again.

"You should go," Edward says.

"Yeah. Don't forget to tell Emmett."

"I won't."

I don't move. I want him to kiss me again, and I wait until he grins at me and gives in. This time it's just a brush of his lips on mine.

"I love you," I whisper, my face burning as I force myself to watch his reaction.

Edward smiles. "Love you too. Talk to you tonight."

I steal one last quick kiss before I dart out the door.

~v~

"How's Edward?"

I turn to stare at Rose. She looks straight ahead, her eyes on the road where they should be, but her lips twitch as if she's fighting off a smile.

"You were there. You saw him."

She sighs. "Fine. How are you and Edward?"

I turn back and stare at the road. "Fine. Good."

"Is that all? Come on, Jas. Don't you want to talk about anything? We're dating brothers. We should be gossipping."

My jaw drops open and I stare at her in horror. "What? Huh? I don't know what you... Do you want...?" I shake my head. "No. No, I'm fine, thanks."

Rose sighs again. "Who else are you going to talk about stuff with? Do you talk to Edward? Or do you just make out all the time?"

"We talk," I choke out.

"What else do you do?"

From the corner of my eye I can see that she's blushing.

"I mean, what are you doing? Just kissing, or..."

I snap my head forward and stare out the front window. "Na-uh. We are not talking about this." My face is burning.

She clears her throat. "We have to, Jas. If Mom and Dad knew, this would be their job. You need to be able to talk to someone."

"I'm fine. And I wouldn't talk to Mom and Dad about this shit even if they were cool about it, okay?"

"Just give me some idea if I should be worried or not, okay? Like, where are you? I'll go first if it makes you feel better. At your age, Emmett and I were just rounding third base. Is that where you are?"

She speaks calmly, as if she's commenting on what we had for dinner last night, and it freaks me out. "Fuck, Rose!"

"Stuck on second? Because there is nothing wrong with that, you know. It's good."

It's just getting worse. "We're not stuck on fucking second, Rose. Jesus."

"Oh, god. You are still on third then, right? Barely? Please tell me you're barely on third. I'm not ready for you to be hitting home runs with Edward just yet—you know I waited till I was 18, right? I did, even though Emmett wanted to ages before—"

"Yes," I shout. "Barely on third. That's where we are. Please stop!"

Rose turns her attention back to the road and makes a satisfied noise. "See? You can talk about this stuff. How's it going otherwise? You're talking? Good. Talking is good—"

"Eric texted me today," I blurt out. "I'm... I'm neglecting the newspaper. Spending all my time with Edward, you know. So I've got to stay after school tomorrow. In the office. Working on the paper."

"Oh," she says.

"So you don't have to babysit us tomorrow after school."

"Oh. Right."

"Edward's going to hang out at the office with me. You can go to the Cullen's if you want," I hint.

"Right," she says as she pulls the car into our driveway. "I should go to Port Angeles, actually. Prom's coming up."

"Yeah. You should do that."

"I'll get Emmett to stay late with you two. He's not going to like that..." She gets out of the car and starts walking toward the house.

"What? No." I jump out of the car and race after her. "Eric'll be there," I lie, or at least I hope I'm lying. I'm counting on there being no one there. "Don't make Em stick around for no reason," I hurriedly add. "He'll hate that."

Rose stops just before she goes inside. She turns back to me, her hand still on the door knob. "When are you going to tell Mom and Dad, Jasper?"

I think my heart might explode. Surely this is too much stress for someone my age? It can't be healthy. "I'm not," I whisper, terrified that Mom is on the other side of the door and listening. "They'd freak. You know that."

Rose presses her lips together in a hard line. "It's not fair," she says.

"I know, right? So we just have to—"

"I meant, it's not fair on Carlisle and Esme, Jas."

"Oh." I hadn't thought of it that way. Edward's parents are beyond cool about us but it must be hard for them to take all the responsibility for what we get up to on themselves.

It's a good thing they don't know what we really get up to.

"What am I supposed to do, Rose? They'd stop me from seeing him. I know they would. I couldn't handle that."

She nods and turns the knob and the door swings open. Mom isn't listening at the door. She's on the phone in the kitchen when Rose pokes her head in. Dad's sitting in front of the television. Each of them wave, acknowledge our presence, and then go back to what they're doing. I breathe a sigh of relief and go up to my room.


	16. 2x01

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [venis-envy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/venis_envy) gets all the credit for helping me on AMMD now. She's cheerleader, pre-reader, fact-checker, Americaniser (that should probably have a 'z' in it), and beta all rolled into one. She's brilliant and I love her.  
>  AMMD is sweet fluff (kinda) but it's also utter filth. If you're under 18 you shouldn't be reading.  
> Epic thanks for all hits, alerts and reviews. It's the only payment fanfic authors get for their fic and every single one is so appreciated. Thank you thank you thank you!  
> Chapter lengths could be really random. Just putting that out there. This one is a respectable 3k, but don't be surprised if there's the odd chappie under 2k.

Edward, Emmett and Alice are waiting for us when Rose pulls into the parking lot Monday morning. I'm out of the car before she's even shut the engine off, before I've really thought it through. Even though my head is screaming at me not to make it obvious, I step too close to Edward, close enough that I can smell him. Close enough that I can feel the warmth of his body. 

He beams at me, but then his smile fades as I step away again. I face Alice instead. She smiles at me, but a little sadly. "Hi Jasper," she says, and then she walks away, one lone girl following Emmett and Rose as they walk hand in hand toward the school. 

I turn toward my class and Edward moves with me. "I told Emmett," he says, his voice low. "He's going to Port Angeles with Rose." 

I want to skip and laugh, but I keep it to a subdued smile. "Awesome." 

Edward returns the smile. "Yeah. Can't wait." 

As we walk, we inch closer together so that our elbows are brushing. That tiny touch is thrilling, even after all the stuff we've done before. Out here in public it's all we can have, and it sends shocks up my arm. 

"Cullen!" 

I jerk away from Edward as heavy footsteps slap against the asphalt. 

"Hey, Tyler." Edward's voice is flat, unenthusiastic. "How's it going?" 

Tyler gives me a brief once-over, then ignores me. "Missing you, man. Didn't you get my texts over the weekend? Impromptu party at Mike's place Saturday night. Your loss, but Jessica was all 'where's Edward?' and shit. Totally missed out on a sure thing, dude." 

"I was busy," Edward says. 

Alice turns back and she must see the terror in my eyes because she slows so she's walking next to me. 

Tyler nods at her. "You should have come too, Alice. Mike wanted you to come." He winks at her. 

Alice's eyes widen and her face splits into a smile and she blushes. Edward pokes her with his elbow. "Something you want to tell me?" 

"Shut up," she hisses, but the smile stays. 

Tyler hikes his school bag higher on his shoulder. "Lunchtime, dude. You gotta sit with us today." Then he tears off across the parking lot, yelling, "Newton!" 

None of the three of us speak as we enter the school. Alice disappears as Edward and I slow outside my first class. 

"I'm sitting with you at lunch," he says under his breath. 

I don't say anything, but I smile, then I turn away and head into class. There's a letter sized poster on the door, heralding the upcoming prom. Rose is already talking about it—her last high school prom—but I've been tuning out. I should pay more attention, because that's what's taking her to Port Angeles this afternoon. She's shopping for a dress or shoes or something, and leaving the house empty. 

~v~ 

Eric barely acknowledges even me at lunch, let alone Edward and Alice. He prefers to sit close to Angela as they talk photography. 

Eric knows nothing about photography. He has a Kodak Easyshare he used to use for the newspaper pictures, but he pretends to know everything about Angela's new Canon Rebel. 

I lied to Rose when I said Eric wanted me to do more work on the paper. He's so distracted by Angela that I doubt he's even noticed how much time I'm not spending writing these days. 

I have a mouth full of food when Alice asks Edward if he's going to my house after school. I almost choke when Edward winks at his sister and nods his head. 

I swallow quickly. "No, I have to stay after school, remember, Edward? I have an article for the paper to write. I'm going to be in the office. Remember?" I kick his foot. 

Edward clears his throat and frowns. "Right." He gives me a strange look as if he's exasperated with me, but I don't know how much Alice knows. I can't risk her making some comment to Rose or Emmett and having Rose cancel her shopping trip. I need to be alone with Edward this afternoon. I'll go crazy if I can't touch him because Rose and Emmett are watching us. 

Eric's stopped talking to Angela. Instead, he's looking from me to Edward and back again with his eyes narrowed. "You'll be in the office tonight?" He shrugs. "Cool. We can catch up." 

No. No no no. "Oh, I have some stuff to do..." 

Eric's eyes narrow further and he glances at Edward again. "Hmmm." Then he looks at Ange. "You wanna take a look at those layouts for me?" 

"Sure," she says, and begins to pack up her camera. Eric and Angela leave, then it's just Edward, Alice, and I. "Alice knows," Edward says. 

I look at Edward's twin and she winks at me. I feel my face flush bright red, and I look away from her, out into the cafeteria. My eyes land on a senior boy walking by. He's cute. My gaze lingers on his backside. 

Edward clears his throat again and I pull my eyes up, just as the boy turns around and catches me looking. 

He raises his eyebrows at me. 

I blush hotter and jerk my head back to the table. I'm usually so careful, yet a guy totally busted me checking him out. It's as if the freedom I have at Edward's home, with his family, is making me careless. I hang my head, burying my face in my hands as Alice and Edward both snigger at my lapse. 

"It's okay," Edward whispers as he nudges me with his elbow. "Alec's cute. I was looking, too." 

I lift my head. "Seriously?" 

Edward grins. "Yeah." He shrugs. "He was my crush before you." 

I blink. He's never admitted to crushing on me before, not in so many words. I smile. 

Edward smiles back and the entire cafeteria fades away. Even Alice goes blurry. Edward's hand rests on my knee. 

I jerk back, shaking my head. Anyone could have seen that. It's too risky. 

I swallow. "Why'd you stop liking him?" I ask, just to have something to say. 

"He was taken. You weren't." 

"He had a girlfriend?" 

Alice and Edward both stare at me as if I've grown another head. 

"What?" 

"Alec's gay," Edward says. "Where were you last year? It was common knowledge. He was dating a senior and they both came out. They're still together as far as I know." 

It boggles my mind that there were gay students, out at school, and I didn't even know. "Shit." 

~v~ 

I don't have anything to write. I've barely thought about articles for the paper since Edward and I got together. Eric's been carrying me, I know, but at least there's pictures taking up space now. 

Eric's staring at me, waiting for me to tell him why I'm even here. 

Finally, when I say nothing, he takes a deep breath. "What's up with you and Cullen?" he asks. 

I panic. "What? Nothing. What do you mean? There's nothing. Just friends, that's all. Because of Rose and Emmett, you know that." 

Eric lifts one eyebrow. "You used to hate each other and now you're all 'best friends'?" Eric rolls his eyes. "I don't trust him. He's fucking with you." 

I gape at him. "What?" 

"He's messing with you. He's best friends with Tyler Crowley and that guy is an asshole. You honestly think Edward Cullen isn't up to something? You're too trusting, Jasper." 

"What the hell...? What do you think he's up to? What could he possibly do?" 

Eric throws his hands into the air. "I don't know. Expose you to the school as a big nerd? Something. Has he convinced you that Alice likes you? Some other girl? It'll be like that. You'll think some chick is into you and then she'll dump your ass in front of the whole school. Don't trust him." 

I snort with laughter as I turn away from Eric, and I come face to face with Edward. I smile. As if he could do anything to hurt me. 

"Rose and Em are coming," he mouths at me and I quickly slide into a desk and pull the layouts Eric's been working on in front of me. Edward sits on the edge of the desk and looks down at me shuffling paper. He's too close with Eric here, but I don't have time to nudge him away. 

Rose pokes her nose into the office. "We're gonna have dinner in Port Angeles," she says. 

I look up. "Okay. I'll tell Mom." 

"Behave," she says before she disappears. 

"Always do," I murmur as I look back down at the desk. 

When I look up, Eric is staring at Edward. "What are you doing here?" he asks. 

Edward says nothing. 

"We're not staying," I force out. 

"What did Rose mean by 'behave'?" Eric asks. 

"Nothing." I push the chair out from behind me. It scrapes loudly against the cheap carpet. "See you later, Eric." I head for the door, and Edward follows, looking back at Eric and giving him a wave as we slip out the door. 

The last I see before we head off down the hall is Eric's scowl. 

~v~ 

"You're gonna have to tell him," Edward says as we sit on the floor just inside the doors that open out onto the parking lot. 

I laugh. "You're kidding, right?" 

"I hate this," Edward whispers. "Sneaking around. Not being able to sit too close, or touch you. It's not fair. The more people that know, the better. We won't have to be so careful all the time. You could have asked Eric to cover for us with Rose and Em, you know? You should tell him." 

Slowly I turn my head to face him. "You're crazy. I can't tell Eric." 

"Why not? He's your best friend, isn't he? He won't care. He knows something's up, you should just tell him before he works it out for himself." 

I shake my head. "Never going to happen." 

Edward freezes. "Never?" His brows draw together as he frowns. "One day, though, we'll tell people, right? We shouldn't have to hide, Jasper." 

My heart goes from normal to thumping wildly in the space of a single moment. "I can't. My parents... I can't." 

"Then tell your parents first. If you want support, my Dad would be there, I know he would. Your parents will listen to him." 

I shake my head. I can't think of a decent argument against coming out but I know I'm not ready and I won't be ready any time soon. I can't do it. 

Edward bites his lip and looks out the door. "The lot's empty. We should go." 

~v~ 

Somehow, when we arrive alone at my house, it doesn't feel like I thought it would. We have the place to ourselves for the next two hours, to do whatever we like with no interruptions or worries about noise, yet I'm not as elated or as filled with anticipation as I thought I would be. Edward is quiet, too. 

Even so, without a word we go up to my room, dropping our school bags just inside the door. Edward closes the door and I close my curtains. I pull open my bedside drawer and toss the lube on the bed. Edward pulls a condom out of his pocket and throws it down as well. 

I've stopped fighting him on it. He's so adamant because of his father's safe sex speeches. I've been lucky enough to avoid them so far but I know I'll be included soon enough unless I tell my own parents I'm dating Edward. 

Like Edward says, it's bad enough that we're doing it. This way, at least we're doing what we're told, kind of. 

We meet on the bed and start to kiss. Soon, all that tension spills away as our bodies and our hormones take over. 

This will only be the fourth time we'll have actual sex, but it's already getting easier. I'm comfortable naked with Edward now, and it's easy just to strip off my clothes in front of him. We're both already fully hard by the time we get out of our boxers, then we lie down on my bed and rub against each other as we kiss, just enjoying the feeling of our bare skin touching, enjoying not having to hurry. We've got two hours to fuck and get cleaned up. It seems ages, though I know it'll go fast. 

Edward rolls on top of me, and he rubs against me until we're both moaning in want and need. He comes quickly, and then collapses onto me, exhausted. I lie beneath him, hard and horny, but I can wait, because I know what's coming next. 

Eventually, he catches his breath. He gets up onto his elbow and he cleans his come off my stomach with the box of tissues I keep under my bed. "Get up on your hands and knees," he says. 

My heart starts thumping wildly. I can feel my pulse in my dick. I get up and turn over so my ass is sticking out and my head is lowered. My cock aches as it bobs between my legs. I move my hips and I get no friction, but I can't help writhing and moaning as I wait for him to touch me. 

"Oh my god, Jas," Edward whimpers. "I could come again just watching you do that." 

My face burns and I try to still my hips but I can't. When Edward shifts on the bed, getting behind me, placing his palms on my ass cheeks I can't help myself. I moan again and rock my hips backward. 

"Fuck." Edward slides one finger down the crack of my ass and over my hole. 

I wriggle my ass and push back. 

"You want my finger in your ass, baby?" 

I nod and then hang my head. "Please." 

I feel his breath on my ass cheek, and then his lips as he places a kiss there. "Soon." 

I moan. 

"Wait, baby." His lips move, kissing one cheek, then the other. "Beautiful," he whispers, and then he licks my cheek, and drags his tongue into the centre. 

I cry out and writhe as his tongue darts over my hole. It's wet and warm and squishy and he has his tongue on my ass and just the thought of it is almost too much to bear. 

He holds my cheeks apart with his hands as he buries his face between them and it's good, so fucking good that I can't help but thrust my hips and I can't help but grab my dick and start stroking. 

Edward pulls back. "Don't come." Then he sticks his tongue on my ass again. 

"I need to," I moan. 

Then he takes his tongue away and covers me with his body. "You are so fucking hot, Jas. I want to fuck you. I want to feel you come when I'm inside you." 

I take my hand off my dick. "Fucking hurry up then." I'm walking a line. As he slicks his fingers and pushes one into me, I grit my teeth and squeeze my eyes shut to stop myself from coming. He fills me with a second finger before I'm ready for it, but it drives my impending orgasm away with the burning stretch. Then he slides a third finger in. 

"I can't wait," he rasps. "Need to fuck you." He thrusts his cock against my hip in proof. He's incredibly hard again already. I push back, onto his fingers, against his cock. 

"Do it," I whisper. "Fuck me." A breeze comes up through the open window, catches the curtain, flicks it so rare sunlight flickers over the duvet in front of my eyes, and then it's gone. It cools my bare ass and reminds me of my position. I'm down on my elbows, my ass in the air. We've never done it like this before. "Fuck me hard, Edward." 

He groans and pulls back. I hear the condom packet tear. Edward curses as he fumbles with the rubber. Then his cockhead is at my hole, blunt, thick. He stretches me and I cry out as he breeches the tight muscle. Then he's in, and with quick, shallow thrusts, he fills me. 

My cock softens a little. I don't care. It'll come back. He only needs to make a couple of long, slow thrusts in and out before I'm hard again. It burns. It makes me ache from the inside. I feel him deeper than ever before. I can push back against him more easily than I could before. His hands on my hips, pulling me onto his cock, drives me crazy. 

I grab my cock and stroke. "Have to come." 

"Yeah, baby," he pants. "Come. Can't hold on much longer. So fucking hot. So sexy." He sobs once. "Love you so much." 

I moan, long and drawn out as I tug hard on my dick, and then I whimper and my balls tighten up and I come all over my duvet in long white stripes. 

He wraps one arm around my waist and jerks into me with all his strength. Then he stills, and through the condom I feel his cock pumping into me. He groans as he comes, burying his face between my shoulder blades. Then he goes limp and it's all I can do just to hold us both up and out of the mess on the duvet. 

"Should have put a towel down," Edward mumbles. 

I laugh and then tip us sideways so we land away from the mess. "I'm gonna have to do laundry," I grumble. "What time is it?" 

Edward shifts and looks at his watch. "Almost five. Have we got time for a shower?" 

"You go." I can shower later. Right now I have to deal with my duvet. 

~v~ 

Edward's on his way home when my mom's car pulls into the driveway. I'm sitting at my desk, pulling books out of my bag. 

At the bottom of the bag lies my cellphone. The message light is blinking. 

It's a text from Eric. I open it, almost afraid of what I might find there. 

**You might trust him, but I don't. I'm gonna find out what Cullen is up to.**


	17. 2x02

"All I'm saying is stay away from Eric. We have to be more careful. He's going to be watching you. He's going to be watching us." 

Edward sighs and tips his head back. "You have to tell him. He's smart. He's going to figure it out for himself." Then he stops and straightens up. "Let's just come out." 

"Shhh!" I look around to see if anyone's overheard, but it's early and there aren't many students at school yet, let alone close enough to hear. "Damn it, Edward." I shake my head. "I can't even think about that yet. It's okay for you. Your family's cool. Me... No way." 

Edward looks hurt and kicks at the edge of the step I'm standing on. He mumbles something, but I don't catch it. 

A couple of girls round the corner and head for the door we're standing outside. I recognise Lauren Mallory and Jessica Stanley. I haven't spoken to Lauren since she kissed me last year. I drop my eyes down to the ground, but not before I catch the predatory look in Jessica's eye when she spots Edward. 

"Hey, Edward," Jessica says. 

"Hey,  _ Jasper, _ " Lauren says, drawing out my name like an insult.

My head snaps up. She's smirking, standing with her hip cocked and one eyebrow raised. 

She scares the shit out of me. 

I flush hot and look back at the ground. 

"Did you hear?" she says to Edward. "About that queer senior?" 

"His name's Alec," Jessica supplies. 

"Yeah, but he's gay, isn't he? Anyway, he tried to buy a ticket to the prom for a boy. The school board said no, of course, but can you believe it?" 

Jessica says something else, but I don't hear it. All I hear is 'queer' and the way Lauren puts such emphasis on the word. I'm frozen. I can't move for fear that a flinch or a swallow will be all the proof she needs. 

Edward, of course, is relaxed and cool. Nothing phases him. Even after the girls leave he doesn't bat an eyelid. 

"Is that even legal?" he says. 

I shake my head, having no idea what he's talking about. 

"I know, right? It's gotta be discrimination. They can't do that." He starts walking into the building, and I follow automatically, still having no idea what he's talking about. 

Then I remember Eric. "I'll see you at lunch," I mumble, and I walk off in the other direction. 

~v~ 

"Whatever he's doing, he's doing it alone or with Tyler. Mike doesn't know anything. Kept wanting to talk about Alice." Eric grins. "I think he likes her." 

"Hmm." I scan the cafeteria for any sign of Edward. Finally he appears, walking into the cafeteria with Alice by his side. She starts toward us, but Edward grabs her by the arm, whispering something to her with a frown on his face, then he looks up. 

I shake my head almost imperceptibly and then look down at the table. 

When I look up again, they're sitting at their old table. Alice looks confused, but smiles at Mike as he leans across to say something to her. 

Edward just looks miserable. My heart breaks a little. 

~v~ 

Maybe Edward's right. Maybe if Eric knew about us, it would be one less person we'd have to hide from. 

It might be worse. Eric is my best friend. I couldn't bear it if he rejected me because of it. 

Mike talks in low tones throughout Biology. All I hear is Alice's name. Edward makes non-committal noises and drums his fingers on the desk. 

At the end of class, Edward bolts out of the door, his arms piled with books. I follow soon after and catch him as he rounds the corner into a hallway. We stand awkwardly, only paces from each other as students rush past on the way to their next classes and I watch as Edward shoves his books into his bag without care. 

Finally, we're alone. I'm going to be late for PE but I don't care. 

"What did he say at lunch?" Edward whispers. "Mike said—" 

"I'm sorry," I blurt out, and I step closer. It's risky, but I need to be near him. I need to feel his warmth. 

Edward looks up. A pen slips out of his open bag and clatters to the floor. We both ignore it. "It's okay," he says. "I shouldn't be so pushy. I just want..." He reaches out and threads his fingers through mine. "I hate sneaking around." 

"I know." I pull him closer. We touch from shoulder to hip. I can't take my eyes off his lips. I want to kiss him so bad. 

Footsteps startle us and we spring apart, but it's too late. We've been seen. Alec stands at the corner and smirks at us knowingly. My face burns and I wish the ground would swallow me up. 

Alec says nothing. He starts walking again, moving past us and down the hall with purpose. 

Edward breathes a sigh of relief, but I can't breathe at all. What if he tells someone? 

Then Alec stops. He taps his foot as though he's making some decision, then he turns around and walks back toward us. 

I'm frozen to the spot. I want to run, but I can't move. 

"Jasper, right?" 

My brain tells me to lie. He saw Edward and I holding hands, about to kiss. If he knows my name he could tell someone. 

I nod my head. 

"You're on the school paper, aren't you?" 

Again, I nod. 

Alec nods with me. "Could you do me a favour?" 

I can't imagine what I could possibly do for him—but perhaps if I do it, he won't tell anyone what he just saw. "Like what?" 

Alec grins. "They won't let me take my boyfriend to the prom. I thought maybe you could write an article—" 

I shake my head. No way. Anyone supporting him will wear a target too. I can't do it. "Not my decision," I stammer. "You have to talk to Eric Yorkie." I pull my bag onto my shoulder and turn away. "Sorry." 

I can feel Alec's disappointment. "I will," he says, then continues on down the hall. 

Edward stares at me, his eyes wide. "You don't have to ask Eric what to write. Even I know that." 

I laugh, but it's far from funny. "I can't write that article." 

Edward bends and picks up his pen, shoves it into his bag and zips it closed. "You're a coward, Jasper," he says, then he walks away. 

~v~ 

Edward acts normal in front of Alice and Emmett and Rose after school, but he doesn't say anything to me on the way to my house. We get there before Rose does, and we're up in my room with books spread out around us when she walks past my open bedroom door. She glances in, smiles, then wanders off again. 

I wait until I hear her go back down the stairs before I speak. 

"Why aren't you talking to me?" 

Edward looks up. His eyes are narrowed and he bites his lip. "I don't feel like talking right now." He looks back down and opens a book, but I can tell he's not reading it. "I'm pissed at you." 

"Why?" I ask, but I already know why. He keeps pushing me to come out to people before I'm ready. Rose, too, suggesting I tell my parents. I'm not ready for that, for any of it. "I don't know what you want me to do. I can't tell people about us. Please, just give me until next year." 

He puts the book down. "Don't you want to be able to walk with me at school without caring what people think?" 

"Yes," I blurt. "But everyone knowing won't change that. I can't believe you want me to do it before I'm ready. I thought you... I thought..." 

He bites his lip again, but his face has softened. "Jas... I'm sorry. I just want to be with you, Jasper. I want to be able to tell people how I feel about you." He smiles. "That I love you. We shouldn't have to hide." 

"I'm not ready," I insist. 

Slowly, Edward nods. The tension clears a little. I think I've won. 

When he leaves, Rose is flicking through a magazine in the living room. I know she's watching us. 

Edward wraps his arms around me, and he kisses me hard, right in front of Rose. I struggle at first. Yeah, she knows, but I don't like to flaunt it. Edward won't let me go. Eventually, I give in and I let him kiss me like he'll never get the chance again. I forget that Rose is watching. He makes me hard, he makes me want to push him up against the door and rub myself on him until I come. 

Then he pulls away. He has a smirk on his face like he knows exactly what he's done. "I love you," he whispers, then he slips out the door, leaving me hard, frustrated, and absolutely mortified that my sister has witnessed all this. 


	18. 2x03

Between first and second period, I pass by the newspaper office as I'm going from one class to the next. Eric's there, and he's not alone. As I peer in through the open door I see Alec, his perfect ass perched on the edge of my desk. He speaks intently to Eric, gesturing to make his point.

I stare for a moment when I should have just walked on by.

They both look up as one and see me. Eric lifts one hand in greeting. He has a confused look on his face. Alec raises one eyebrow and smirks at me.

I turn away quickly and hurry to my next class, worried that Alec has told Eric that he saw Edward and I yesterday.

~v~

"What the hell, Jas?" Eric says as he slides into his seat at lunch. "We  _ never  _ get stories dumped in our laps and now you're blowing them off? Do you have a problem with Alec?"

I blink at him over my sandwich. "What did he tell you?" I ask, but I don't think I want to hear it out loud. I don't know what I'll say if Alec's told him about seeing Edward and me. I don't know how I'll be able to deny it.

"Just that you weren't interested in the story—you totally blew him off. Do you have a problem with him because he's gay?"

My jaw drops open. I try to speak but nothing comes out. I don't trust myself not to give it all away. Somehow, he'll know. "I just didn't want to do the story, okay?" I take a bite of my sandwich, filling my mouth before I can say anything else stupid.

Eric narrows his eyes at me and shakes his head. "You're fucking weird, Jasper. You never used to be an asshole." He pauses, thinking. "Speaking of which, where's your new best friend?"

My eyes flick up to where Edward's sitting with his friends on the other side of the cafeteria.

"Oh. Right." Eric looks over his shoulder and stares. Edward eats as Alice and Mike talk only to each other. Eric turns back. "Why aren't you over there with the other assholes?"

"Eric—"

"Look, Jas. If you want off the paper, just say so. You haven't done shit since you started hanging out with Cullen. I guess the newspaper isn't cool enough for you anymore. Just watch yourself. It's only a matter of time before he fucks you over completely." Eric glances back over at Edward, who hasn't moved, then he looks back at me. "Fuck this." He gets up and walks out of the cafeteria.

I watch him go, shocked. I should go after him, try to explain.

I can't.

I watch Edward out of the corner of my eye.

Alec walks past him, and Edward jumps out of his seat and goes to talk to him. I can't hear what they are saying, but I want to, especially when Edward shoots Alec a coy smile and blushes.

Alec puts his hand on Edward's arm and says something else.

Edward looks over at me. Alec looks, too. I know they're talking about me, and part of that is terrifying, but I'm exhilarated as well. Edward smiles, and I see my name on his lips. I can't seem to tear my eyes away from him to see Alec's reaction. I smile back.

Anyone could walk by and hear what they are saying, could see the way we're looking at one another, but for just a moment I don't care.

For just a moment I want to scream it out loud for everyone to hear, that I'm with Edward. That I love him. That he makes me happy. For just a moment I like the fact that Alec knows about us and I'm proud to be with Edward.

I feel bad that I refused to help Alec.

I look back down at my half eaten sandwich and wish I could do something.

When I look back up, Alec is heading for the door. My eyes follow him, and I don't notice at first that Tyler is coming the other way, not until he slams into Alec with his shoulder and sends the older boy stumbling back.

"Out of my way, faggot," Tyler says, loud enough for the entire cafeteria to hear. A hush spreads over the space and all eyes turn to the spectacle at the door.

That could be me, I realise. It could be me on the receiving end of Tyler's hate. It could be Edward.

Alec shrugs and walks away from Tyler. Tyler heads for the table where Edward was sitting but Edward puts a hand out to stop Tyler.

I cringe, because even though I can't hear what he's saying, I know that Edward is standing up for Alec, calling Tyler on his attack, and it makes me afraid Edward is putting himself in the firing line, and people know that we've been spending a lot of time together.

The whole cafeteria can hear when Tyler attacks Edward. "What's your problem? Do you like that faggot? Do you want him to suck your cock?"

My heart hurts and my stomach clenches. I want to punch Tyler. I want to protect Edward. I want to go to him and make sure that he's okay but when he pushes past Tyler and leaves the cafeteria all I can do is sink into my seat and hide, because I'm afraid.

~v~

Edward's taken a risk standing up to Tyler and I've been too close to him lately. I feel as if anyone I pass could realise that Edward's gay, and that I'm gay.

I keep my head down as I walk into Bio. I trip over my own feet and drop my bag. It slides down the aisle between the desks. People laugh.

I feel dizzy and almost fall as I reach out to pick it up.

Someone gets to it before me. Staring at the place where it was I try not to throw up.

"Jasper? You look sick."

Edward's voice swims in my head. Other voices break through, laughter. It confuses me. I feel Edward's hands on me and someone is going to see. I shake him off and find my seat. My hands are shaking. I'm sweating. I can't get enough air. I have to get out because everyone's watching me.

"Come on, Jasper."

I obey, letting Edward help me to my feet. One foot in front of the other. I concentrate. He helps me, his arm around me so I don't fall.

"Are you going to puke?" He leads me toward the bathrooms.

I shake my head. "Outside," I gasp. "Air." I'm too hot. He's too hot. I shove his hands off me and head for the doors. I need to get outside, away from all the people.

Edward reaches the doors first and holds them open for me. I throw myself outside and grab onto the guard rail—it's cold—and I cling to it as I take deep breaths of fresh cool air. Then I slide down onto the ground, hanging my legs over the edge of the landing and I put my elbows on my knees and breathe.

Edward skips down the steps and comes around in front of me. "Are you okay?"

I look up. He's concerned. Edward's not judging me. Not right now, anyway. "I will be," I say. "I can't go back in there."

He nods. "It's okay. Do you need to go to the nurse?"

I shake my head. "Not sick."

"You looked sick. I thought you were gonna pass out."

When I think about it, my heart starts beating harder again. "I was just..." Everyone staring at me, knowing. Laughing. "I freaked out."

"Did you have a panic attack or something?"

I shrug. "I want to go home."

"What? Like, ditch? You should go to the nurse first to get a note."

I shake my head. "I can't. Please? Can you take me home?"

He stares at me for a long time, and then he nods. "I'll have to come back, though."

"It's okay. I just have to get out of here."

"Okay." He holds out his hand and pulls me to my feet, and he wraps his arm around me.

I shake it off. "I'm fine." I start walking toward his car and he follows.

"What should I tell your teachers?"

"I don't care," I murmur. I just have to get away.

~v~

I'm not completely okay by the time we get home, but I'm better. I can breathe now. My head's stopped spinning.

"Thanks," I say as I stand in front of the refrigerator. I'm looking for water, but the cold air that surrounds me is nice. I grab a bottle and close the door.

Edward stands in the middle of the kitchen and watches me as if I'm going to freak out again.

"I'm fine. You can go. I don't want you to get in trouble."

He walks toward me slowly. "What happened?"

I lick my lips and shake my head. "Too many people know. Alec—"

"Alec's not gonna say anything."

"He might. And Tyler—I heard what he said to you. He knows."

Edward lets out a short, sharp burst of laughter. "Tyler doesn't know shit."

It doesn't matter what he knows, only what he said, what people will believe.

Edward reaches out and grabs hold of my hand. "We should just get it over with."

My mouth goes dry. "I can't. Go back to school."

I crack the seal on my bottle of water and take a long drink. I turn away from Edward and lean against the counter. "It's too much. I can't do this. I just want it all to go away."

I feel him behind me. I can feel the warmth of his body as he decides whether to reach out to me or not. "Even us?"

I don't know what to say.

"I love you," he says. I feel his breath on the back of my neck.

I reach behind me and find his hip. I pull him close. "I love you, too." I'm scared. "I wish no one knew."

"We're not doing anything wrong, Jasper. Why are you so afraid?"

I twist around, fast. "Because I am. Because my parents will find out. Because they'll stop me from seeing you." A tear rolls down my cheek and I brush it away. "You should go."

Edward blinks. "You don't care what Tyler thinks?"

I shake my head. "This is a fucking small town, Edward. Everyone knows everyone else. Tyler could go home and tell his parents. They might run into my parents.  _ They'll stop me from seeing you." _

He chews his lip. "They can't."

"Until I'm eighteen they can do whatever the fuck they like."

Edward narrows his eyes. "Your parents don't give a shit what you do, Jasper."

He's bitter. I understand that. He's also right. "Only because I'm a credit to them. I make good grades. I don't embarrass them. If I were to come out as gay, Edward, it would embarrass them. They'll fight that with everything they have."

"Then your parents are assholes." He bites his lip. "Shit."

I shrug. "You should go."

"Jasper, I'm sorry."

_"You should go."_

"You haven't even given them a chance. Tell them. Then you won't have to worry."

_"Edward, go!"_

He takes a step back away from me. "I'm sorry." 

I shake my head and push past him. "Let yourself out." I head for the stairs. I can't be assed feeling this way. I'll sleep and I won't have to deal with it.

~v~

I wake up when my phone rings. I roll over and consider ignoring it, but it keeps ringing. The sound is muffled. It's in the bottom of my bag.

I grab for the bag and find the phone. Eric's number flashes on the screen. Against my better judgement I answer it. "Hey."

"Jas? Where the fuck are you? Are you ditching school now?"

I yawn. "Went home sick. You woke me up."

"Sorry. I gotta talk to you. There's some stuff you have to know."

My heart skips a beat. I want to curl up in my bed and forget everything.

"I'll see you in five minutes," he says, then he hangs up.


	19. 2x04

I throw myself out of bed and run to the bathroom. There are creases on my face from the pillow and my hair is a tangled mess. My head is spinning again. I don't want to know what Eric's found out, I don't want to hear it, but he's coming here right now.

I splash some water on my face, run my fingers through my hair.

Looking at my watch, I realise that school has just gotten out, so Rose will be here soon, too. On cue, a car pulls into the driveway. I go back to my room and sit down on my rumpled bed and wait for Rose to come in.

"Up here," I call.

She runs up the stairs. "Edward said you went home sick," she says. "What happened?"

I cringe. "I'm fine." I'm not. Not really. My heart is thumping wildly and the hair at the back of my neck is damp with sweat. Another car pulls into the drive. Rose crosses the room and looks out my window. "Is that Eric?"

I stare at the floor and nod. "Can you let him in?"

"Yeah." She turns to leave. "If you need to talk, Jas..."

"I'm fine."

~v~

Eric doesn't even knock. "What the hell did you do to Lauren Mallory? That girl has it in for you."

That's not what I expected to hear when he burst through the door, but it stops my heart all the same. "Nothing," I say, still staring at the floor.

"It must have been something, because she's telling everyone who will listen that you're gay."

I almost don't make it to the bathroom in time before the remains of the sandwich I had for lunch comes back up.

"Jas?" Rose knocks on the door. “Are you okay?”

"I'm fine," I call. It's even less true now.

I really don't want to leave the safety of the bathroom, but I can't hide in here all day. I have to think of something to tell Eric. I have to somehow convince him that it's not true.

I open the door and push past Rose and go back into my bedroom. Eric's sitting at my desk. He looks up and grins. "You really are sick."

I can't think of anything to say.

"No one believes her," he says. "She's a bitch. Everyone knows it."

I clear my throat. "She tried to kiss me, once."

"And you rejected her. Bitter cow. But it all makes sense."

I sit back down on my bed. "Yeah." It doesn't matter what her reasons are—she's right. If someone were to ask me outright no amount of denials would make them believe me. I'm screwed. Completely and utterly screwed.

"She reckons that's why you're hanging around Edward. She thinks you like him. Like, _like him_ , like him."

I don't breathe, just in case the slightest movement proves Lauren right. I know that my silence is more incriminating than anything I could say, but I can't say a word. I can't take my eyes off the floor.

"It got me thinking, though," Eric continues. "Did you know Edward Cullen has never had a girlfriend? Half the girls in our year are in love with him, but he's never gone out with any of them. Jas, I think  _ he's _ gay, and he's started hanging around because he likes  _ you _ . So I was on the wrong track. Yeah, he's up to something, but he doesn't hate you—he likes you. He's not fucking with you—" He snorts with laughter. "He wants to fuck you."

I lift my head and stare at Eric with my mouth hanging open.

Eric rolls his eyes. "Come on, Jas. Don't be an asshole. I never figured you for a homophobe. You're not like that fucker Crowley. I admit, I was wrong about Cullen. But it's not his fault, so don't be a dick to him now that you know, okay?"

I blink.

A car pulls up outside. Eric leans over the desk and looks out the window. "Huh. Speak of the devil." He turns around. "Don't be a dick." He stands up. "I'll leave you to let him down easy. Hope you feel better."

"Wait," I blurt out as Eric's hand closes over the doorknob. I'm making a huge mistake, I know it. "You're right."

Eric turns around. "About what?"

"About Edward. He's gay." My heart pounds so hard it hurts my chest.

A car door slams shut. Eric stares at me. "You knew?"

I lift my chin and take a deep breath. "So am I." I'm gripping the edge of the bed so tightly that my hands hurt. "We're together."

Eric's mouth drops open. "Holy shit." He stares at me for long moments, then a slow smile spreads over his face. "You fucking idiot, Jas. You let me go digging dirt on him for how long?" He shakes his head in disbelief.

Edward's voice drifts up from downstairs.

"You can't tell anyone," I say. "My parents—"

"Would freak." He nods. "I won't say a word."

Edward runs up the stairs and Eric opens the door. Edward looks at him cautiously.

Eric smiles. "Edward," he says, as he slips past and out into the hall.

Edward watches him go, then he closes the door. "That was weird." He turns and looks at me. "What happened?"

I look up. I realise suddenly that I can breathe. My heart isn't threatening to explode. "I told him."

~v~

"So you don't want off the paper?"

Eric and I are in the newspaper office at lunch on Thursday. "Hell no," I say, as I look up from the article Eric's written about the school boards decision not to allow same-sex couples at the prom. "I've just been busy."

Eric snorts. "You should have told me."

I look back down and mark a typo with red pen. "I thought you'd freak."

"I did freak. First you hate each other then you're never apart? What was I supposed to think? But this? Nah. It's cool. Makes even less sense that you didn't want to write that, though." He points at the paper I'm marking.

"What did Alec say?" I ask, my eyes on Eric's article.

"Nothing. Why?"

"He saw us. He knows."

"He's the least of your worries. It's Lauren I'd look out for. A woman scorned, dude. Boiling bunnies and all that."

I didn't want to come to school today because of it. I felt like everyone would be watching me, talking about me. It was a relief when I was ignored. "You said no one believes her."

"They don't. They know what she's like. But she won't give up. You'd be better off just telling people, then she won't have any ammo."

"I can't." I mark another typo.

Eric sighs. "You're not doing anything wrong."

I reach the end of the article and pass it back to him. "Not you, too. Just leave it, okay? No one has to know. It's none of their business."

"Whatever, dude. Now go find your boyfriend." He smirks. "It's gonna take me a while to get used to that."

"Shut up." I push my chair out from the desk and head for the door.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he sings.

I slam the door shut behind me.

~v~

The locker rooms are deserted. All I can hear is the drip, drip, drip, of the showers. I wander through, feeling as if someone—or something—is going to jump out at me.

A door clicks. "Jas," Edward hisses.

He stands in the open doorway of one of the store rooms, a smile on his face. "Come on."

I make a beeline for him. He slips back inside, and I follow. "I can't believe we're doing this."

"Needs must," he murmurs, then he twists his hand into the front of my shirt and pushes me against a wall. "I want you so much. You were so fucking hot last night."

Yesterday, after I told him that I'd come out to Eric, the first thing he did was kiss me. That kiss rapidly turned into a frantic dry hump on my bed—until Rosalie came knocking on the door.

We spent the rest of the afternoon horny as fuck but unable to do anything about it. When Edward went home he started texting me. He sent dirty text messages to my phone all through dinner. I sat at the table with my family, hard as a rock until Mom made me put my phone away until after we'd eaten.

I jerked off in the shower before bed, then I curled up with the phone and called Edward, and we got each other so worked up that we got off together as we said filthy things to each other over the phone.

The whole time, all I wanted to do was touch him. This morning, as we walked into school together, we could barely keep away from each other. Neither of us can wait until after school—on the unlikely chance that Rose might forget we're there for long enough that we can get off.

So we arranged to meet here. It feels dirty, fumbling at each other in the dark, surrounded by the smell of old rubber and sweat. Edward hands me a wad of crisp paper towels—the kind that are in the dispensers in the bathrooms—then tears open my jeans, and his own. In moments, he has his hands around both our cocks and his lips on mine.

It doesn't take long. The location, the build up, the elated feeling I have after gaining Edwards approval over telling someone about us has me coming fast, spilling over his hand and our cocks, slicking the path of his hand as he keeps stroking faster, then he bites my lip as he starts to come, too.

I grab my paper towels and catch the worst of the mess, fold them, and use them for a more complete clean up.

We sort out our clothes as we grin at each other, and we slip out of the storage room, dumping the paper towels in a garbage can on the way.

Then we both freeze as we hear heavy footsteps on the linoleum.

We stare at each other for a split second before I move one way and Edward moves the other.

It's too late. A large figure rounds the end of a row of lockers.

We both breathe a sigh of relief.

Emmett grins and laughs. The sound echoes throughout the enclosed space. "What are you two up to?"

"Nothing," I say.

"None of your business," Edward says.

Emmett snorts and pulls his gym bag off his shoulder and lets it fall onto a bench. It lands with a thump. "Yeah, right. Get outta here."

Edward and I both move as one, making for the exit. We crash into each other.

"Don't get caught fooling around at school," Emmett says as we leave.

~v~

"That was too fucking close," I whisper as we head for Biology. "It could have been anyone. If they'd been five minutes earlier—"

"Relax," Edward says. He's too close to me as he walks, his arm brushing mine, but I don't want to move.

I take a deep breath. I'm afraid I might freak out in class again, and that fear isn't helping me any. The narrow miss in the locker room isn't, either. "I'm trying."

Edward stops outside class. "You're okay?" he whispers, then he strokes my pinky with the tip of his finger. It's comforting.

I nod.

"Think happy thoughts," he murmurs.

I smile. That helps. It helps a lot. It helps so much that I spend the entire period thinking about sex with Edward and when the teacher calls on me during class I have no idea what he's been talking about.

**Author's Note:**

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